


The Thing About Masks

by cookie_writes (astrocookie)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: #letAdrieneat2k16, AAAAAAAND ITS DONE, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Crushes, DJWifi, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, Ladynoir (of sorts), Love, Marichat, Pls dont hurt me, Romance, SUMMARY CHANGE PEOPLE, Side Ships, Unrequited Love, What Have I Done, adribuns is mine plz, adrienette - Freeform, and now im drowning help, and the plot thickens, awkward teens, i tried to swim out to my ship, i was feeling poetic, im kinda lost but its okay, like wtf is that, mlb's taken over my life, no major au, punning hardcore, puns, sorry for the first chappie, summary isn't the best, these geeks are so in love, these two need to kiss already, when i wrote the summary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-07-18 14:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7319548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrocookie/pseuds/cookie_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Up until now, life had been good. Up until now, there were no whirlwinds of emotions that slapped them in the face. Up until now, 'hurt' was not a word in their dictionaries. But what happens when Adrien's love for his Lady is battled by his affection for another pig-tailed someone? What happens when Marinette is punched repeatedly in the gut by her arising feelings for her feline partner? </p><p>Adrien may not be the smartest in the realm of love, but Chat Noir is. Or so he thinks. Marinette may feel she's ready for him; for the love of her life to reciprocate her strong infatuation with him, but is she really? </p><p>Two people. Four identities. One love. Will they make it? Or will the severity of their sentiments prevail once again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where Friends Are Made

**Author's Note:**

> Okay look people,
> 
> I know there are like billions of amazing fics out there and the fact that you chose to read this one warms my heart up already.  
> I'm, by no means, a writer, of literally ///any/// sorts, so just go easy on me. MLB, frankly, has taken over my short life and frankly, has no intention of leaving. 
> 
> Frankly, I don't mind. 
> 
> And with that, I sincerely (desperately) hope you like this little...thing. I would deeply appreciate comments, but reading this lil piece  
> o' shit is enough. Enjoy! (:
> 
> ALSO, I'm open for discussions and feedback on my Tumblr, astro-cookie, so do say hi to me there. I’m a smol lonely bean to pls talk to me.

Love; it's like a hawk, hiding in branches of our mind, camouflaged in the shadows of our deepest thoughts and desires, eyeing our movements and actions. It strikes when we're most vulnerable, swooping down to catch us and our flailing emotions. Its claws dig in, making the reality of the situation painfully clear, it rises to the sky, bracing us for a thrilling ride. And while the experience is petrifying, it brings bouts of exhilaration. We hold on, terrified, not of falling, but of hurting. We clutch our hearts, never letting go, our stubbornness blinding our ability to think logically, and we shut our eyes, not wanting to see more; to know more, because we are, in truth, afraid of gaining any more knowledge, frightened it would bring us pain somehow. We don’t realise the absence of the talons. We don’t see our nearing fate. But we feel; we feel our sentiments slapping us in the face, we feel our hearts flying from our grip, becoming someone else’s to manipulate, but most of all, we feel the impact when we hit, knowing it would leave a mark that we would regret someday. Because that’s what love is; it’s a risk we’re willing to take, knowing very well how it would all turn out in the end.

But that’s what was different for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. As she hurtled ungracefully towards the hellish fields of unrequitedness, her heart fluttering from her grasp, she was caught. Caught in the arms of a man with devilishly handsome eyes; the color of beautiful meadows that ran on forever. And that’s how she knew that he was the one; the one that would be the end of her.

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

Class had just ended, turning the desolate hallways into a packed, crowded chaos as the lunch bell rang throughout the building. Students hurried out, excitedly chirping about recent party or groaning about the upcoming test. The never-ending stream of chatter found its way to the school courtyard, respective homes or the windows of delicious-smelling cafés. The sixty minute timer for freedom had been set, and the children didn't waste a minute to savour the feeling.

None of that mattered to Marinette, though; she was focused on one thing and one thing only and that was asking the love of her confusing, two-timing life to go to lunch with her. 

It honestly wasn’t that hard, it _really_ wasn’t. They weren't even gonna be alone! Alya and Nino would be there, hopefully to make it less awkward. She had played it over and over in her head. She would walk over to him, politely tap him on his shoulder, _internally scream_ as he turned his attention toward her, then, she would ask him to join her at lunch, and he would say yes. Easy. Besides, her part time superhero duty forced her to face much more...er... let's go with _difficult_ situations, but a thought-out strategy and a bit of luck always came to the rescue. Then again, nothing ever seemed to go to plan around Adrien _fricking_ Agreste.

But this wasn't even a  _date._ She'd convinced herself that in order to go any further in whatever relationship she and Adrien had, they had to be better  _friends._ Obviously, Marinette wouldn't stop there, oh no, but it was somewhere to start. 

She hoped her Ladybug luck would help her out here. 

She took a deep breath. _Be cool._ “H-Hey!” Aaaaaand,  _fail._

_The tap! You forgot the tap! And stop blushing, you idiot!_

He turned, lowering his phone, “Hey! What’s up?” 

_Oh, those eyes were gonna kill her! Earth to Marinette!_

“I was… uh, wondering if-if you and Nino would like to… umm, join me, and Alya? F-for lunch, I mean!” _Smooth, Marinette, real smooth._

“Mm-hmm, yeah sure, I’ll just get Nino. Lemme just pack up my stuff and we’ll meet you outside, yeah?” Adrien offered.

_Sure…then we’ll confess our love and…No, no, no, wait, wait, lunch first._

“Y-yeah. Love you—I mean! See you!” Marinette managed to squeak out before practically sprinting away, huffing to a stop in front of a proud Alya.

Alya grinned, folding her arms over her chest. “I told you it wouldn’t be that hard.”

“Yeah, yeah… like _you’re_ always right.” Mari rolled her eyes, finally ceasing the panting. "They'll meet us at the gate," She linked her arm with Alya's. "Come on, let's go." 

The two walked to the school doors, chittering excitedly about the date—  _outing_ , to come. Alya did her best to slow her blue-eye friend down, elucidating that this was just lunch, and nothing more. They weren’t even dating…yet? But Marinette never relented, babbling on about her possible future with Adrien, with the three kids, and the cats, and the dogs and the hamsters. _Seriously_ , Marinette? She couldn't get a word out around him, much less her plans of their 'happy-ending'. It was like he was more of a fantasy than a crush; more of a unachievable trophy than an infatuation and that didn’t look too promising, especially with someone who defined a 2-second eye contact as progress. 

Alya stopped and held the aspiring designer’s shoulders, forcing Marinette to stop and face her friend. Hazel eyes bored into sapphire ones.

“Look, I know you like this guy and all, but you have gotta stop thinking he’s on levels waaay beyond your reach, girl! He’s just a living, breathing guy, with flaws and imperfections. You need to stop putting him up on this pedestal and thinking he’s some god or something. Once you do that, girl, you’ll stop melting to a puddle at the sight of him, and I guarantee he’ll fall love with the dork of designer you really are. I'm serious, girl!” She finished, with a motherly shake of her head.

Marinette sighed, “I know, I know...but his—” 

"Yeah, yeah, his eyes. Big deal—"

"And his—"

"Smile, I know—" Alya knowingly added.

"Okay, what about his—" Marinette pouted. 

"Laugh? Look, I get, he's the literally embodiment of perfection, but that doesn't change the fact that he's human, or that you're just as great, probably even better—"

Marinette rolled her eyes, a bemused expression painting their way onto her delicate features.

"Just...just promise me you'll try to get past his eyes, or smile or laugh, and get to know him. I really wanna see you happy, 'cause you know I can take Agreste down with just your word." Alya warned, cautiously awaiting her reaction.

It was beyond relieving to hear Marinette laugh. Alya half expected her best friend to exasperatedly wave her off, or tell her to back off, that this wasn't her place to talk, but giggles evaporated any such doubts.

"I really don't think that'll be necessary, but I'll let you know if the time comes." Marinette assured her. 

But she took the next few minutes going over what Alya had said. _Did she really do that?_ Put him up on a pedestal? God, that sounded so _stupid_! The pedestal had got to go, along with her perfect image of the ‘flawless’ Adrien. Alya was right, he was a human; he had faults, too. It didn’t make make him look weak or _wrong_ , but it felt like the light that he radiated was on more of a shining level rather than a blinding one; on a reachable shelf than a towering one. And somehow, it made her love him  _even_ more.

“Yo gals, ready to go?” Nino's voice came, breaking Marinette’s jumbled chain of thoughts, while causing her to jump back abruptly and squeak. 

Alya wasn't as caught off by the sudden arrival and was quick to answer, “Yup, we’re ready. Mari and I found out about this new place down the street.” She nudged Marinette in the ribs, coaxing her to finish.

“Ow, yeah, er, it's pretty new, but Alix told me it has really good pizzas, so…” She concluded, rubbing her sore side. _Not too bad._

Adrien smiled warmly. “Sounds good to me. Lead the way ladies.” 

The walk felt like something seen in old-school movies. The four bantered good-naturedly about topics that ranged from where to find the best seven-layer dips to how amazing the croissants of a certain bakery across the street were. Alya soon snatched up the reins of the discussion, drawling on about the Ladyblog and how she planned to add some new features to help readers follow the Parisian superheroes’ adventures more closely. It was clear she had a serious interest, or rather _obsession_ with the job, but Nino was the only one listening, the other two inwardly chuckling at the firsthand experience. After Alya, Nino was the one holding up the conversation, ranting about his future music career as a DJ and composer. The passion had ignited a fire in his eyes that was plain to see when he expressed his love for it, and the explanation was followed by a round of encouragements. It wasn’t long before the four had reached the café and were taking their coats and bags off.  

Alya slid in next to Nino, winking toward Marinette as she did, who didn’t take long to turn beet red, but Adrien was waiting for her to sit, and _God, she couldn’t keep Adrien waiting,_ so she promptly bum-scooted in. This was not happening. The poorly hidden snickers from across the table were so not appreciated. She quickly grabbed the menu card to hide her now crimson face behind while skimming the food options listed on the paper. Adrien casually lifted his arm to rest it on the sofa back, but that was it for Marinette. 

_Breath. Breath. Breath, Marinette. He’s human. He’s human. He’s…uh, looking at me?_

“You decided what you wanted?” Adrien enquired. A man in an apron stood near, a writing pad in his hands. Marinette scanned the menu card once again before she answered. 

“Uh, yeah, I’ll have the guh-garlic bread, with some ice tea. Thanks.” Content with her answer, she set the card down. The waiter jotted down her order.

“We’ll share a pepperoni pizza, and two lemonades please.” Alya piped up, all the while sharing a so-proud-of-you-oh-they-grow-up-so-fast smile with Nino, directed towards Marinette. 

“And I’ll just have a Caesar salad, thanks.” Adrien finished, closing the menu card and handing it over to the waiter, then turning towards the table.

"So, what's up?"

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

Adrien thought the lunch was amazing. Not only the food, but the chatter and company of his friends; particularly the one who had finally decided to come out of her shell. Marinette’s laughter rang out clearly through the restaurant and it was music to his ears. She was funny, too. It was a nice change to the awkward, stuttering mess he knew. The twinkle in the depths of her cerulean eyes and the understanding they held was similar to something, _someone's_ he had gazed into before, but the memory sat at the back of his head, painfully out of reach, so he did his best to just settle with the love it emanated and bask in the warmth it exuded.

He had, at first, made a mental note to scold Alya about the seating arrangement, but now, he made sure to secretly thank her for it and by the end of the meal, the four had agreed on making the lunches a regular thing.

After arguing about the bill and lots of _put-your-wallet-away-Agreste_ , the group of friends exited the eatery, only to find dark clouds and raindrops painting the Parisian sky. After a moment’s hesitation, Nino brought out a blue umbrella and shot it open. “After you, miss.” He bowed in a cliche-like manner, gesturing to Alya, who complied and slipped her arm through his awaiting one, and the two walked off. They had it so easy. Adrien cursed himself for forgetting an umbrella, even after hearing the forecast from Natalie at breakfast.

“I know I it’s in here somewhere…,” Marinette was rummaging around in her bag, her little pink tongue poking out of the side of her mouth habitually in concentration, “Here!” She held out the black umbrella to Adrien. “You can take it, I...uh, have a jacket.” 

Never let it be said an Agreste didn’t have manners.

“No, no. That’s okay, we’ll share.” He took the umbrella from Marinette’s tiny, if a bit cold hands and opened it. He instantly recognised it as the one he gave to her, on his first day of public school; the day they became friends, and smiled. _She kept it._

Adrien presented the umbrella in a fashion similar to Nino’s. “After you, princes—uh, Marinette.” If she noticed the slip-up, Mari didn’t comment, thank God for that. The two awkwardly huddled together and started off. 

Conversation began with talk of the future. Marinette opened up about her dreams in the fashion department, and things soon soared over to her parents’ bakery ( _yum_ , wait, no, you just ate, Adrien) and how he should model for it, too. They two shared way too many jokes, and to Marinette’s apparent disappointment, puns. 

The school building soon loomed up in front of them, much to Adrien’s dismay. The rain had subsided to a faint drizzle by then, but a glum haze lingered. Sitting on the stairs, Alya and Nino giggled away at something. Once under the safe coverage of the overhead roof, Adrien fumbled to close the umbrella, which in protest, dropped down around them, enveloping the two in an incredibly awkward smushed up hug. Marinette’s face was pressed against Adrien’s chest, hiding the blush that crept up on her face. Adrien was in some sort of position that indicated he was about to hug her, but had misjudged the distance and ended up body-slamming her, with one hand on her waist and the other wrapped around the umbrella. Marinette eventually mustered up the courage to look up at Adrien with questioning eyes, who sheepishly smiled back. Nino and Alya heard the commotion and rushed to help their dweeby friends.

“Guys, if you were gonna smooch, you should’ve given us a heads up.” Nino whined.

“Yeah, I would’ve gotten my phone out.” Alya contributed, pulling up one end of the umbrella, revealing a bemused, scarlet Marinette. “This would go great on the Ladybug, if Nino worked some of his photoshop magic on you two.” She proceeded to open up the rest of the parasol, with help of her DJ  _friend._

As soon as the two were freed, Adrien politely stepped away, violently trying to get the umbrella to close, which gave him an undesired shower; although he was thankful for something to hid his blooming blush behind. 

“Y’all should’ve seen Chloe’s face, before Sabrina dragged her away.” Nino announced

"Thank the heavens above for that." She dramatically raised her hands up to the sky. "Or she woulda ripped your heads off…” Alya added, earning a laugh from Nino.

The pair continued inside the school, muttering about something that had to do with 'how oblivious their babies were'. Adrien finally managed to get that stupid umbrella to close. He handed it over to Marinette, who nervously fidgeted around. She stowed it in her bag.

“Shall we?” Mari hummed, turning to an awkward Adrien. The two started towards class, still early.

“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry for Nino, he just…uhh…” Adrien gulped, not sure how to continue. He really needed to teach Nino some _etiquettes_. 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not like Alya isn’t any better.” Marinette gave him a lopsided smile that made him giggle.

“I had a lot of fun today, I’m glad we did this.” Adrien admitted. Marinette smiled, though she took a minute to answer, seemingly having an internal conflict about something.

“Yeah, it was really nice. Alya and Nino’s pizza was really good.” Marinette finally agreed, looking up at him.

“Oh yeah! It was awesome." He raised his finger to tap his chin thoughtfully, "I wonder what they _dough_ to make it so good.” Adrien bit his lip to keep him from losing his composure while Marinette narrowed her eyes.

Apparently, she noticed. “Was that a _pun_ , Adrien Agreste?" And, apparently, she was disappointed.

"Come on Mari, they weren't that _bread_." He persisted nonchalantly.

"They're terrible, Adrien." She stated, an unnoticed giggle escaping her mouth. Adrien couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Now, that’s…just not—  _flour_!" He managed to gasp out in between bouts of laughter. 

Maybe it was the sheer ridiculousness of the joke, or utter pleading-slash-desperate-just-laugh-at-me-please look in Adrien's eyes, but Marinette couldn’t help but join in, too, and by that the time they’d reached class, the two teenagers had been reduced to a laughing, coughing mess. The topic of Adrien's puns had moved _miraculously_ (Adrien had rubbed off on her) from bread to cats, suspiciously like a certain feline Marinette knew.

The two, shakily took their seats, still giggly from the jokes. Class started as Mme Bustier came in and dragged on as usual, the teacher rambling on about some useless, boring topic that neither Marinette nor Adrien cared about. The teacher caught them shaking from keeping in their sniggering and called them off twice before they finally calmed down. Adrien found himself lost in thought beyond the boundaries of their current subject. Soon, the sounds of pencil scratching paper were all that he could hear, coming from somewhere behind him, and he couldn't help but think about its holder.  

He was so happy Marinette finally let loose around him and opened up. Adrien didn't know what it was about him that turned her into blubbering puddle in the first place; was he mean? He liked to think otherwise. Was it because he was a model? Was it because of his dad? Geez, what was it?

Adrien first believed that Marinette still hated him for the gum incident, but he'd learned over time that she wasn't a person to hold grudges. So what _was_ it?

He'd eventually given up, unable to make up a feasible reason as to why the bluenette disliked him and kept her distance. 

But now, he was overjoyed to find yet another friend. It honestly felt like he was getting to know her for the second time, because everything seemed so familiar. He couldn't place his finger on it but _damn_... 

Her eyes.

Her smile.

Her laugh.

Her eye-roll at his puns.

Her feigned dismay at his jokes.

It all seemed so familiar yet so new. _Forget it Adrien, it's really nothing._ Probably.

But everything kept him coming back to those gems of eyes. Lots of people had blue eyes. _But Mari had bluebell…_ No! _That’s only for my Bugaboo._ Adrien thought, his scraggly train of thought coming to an end as Mme Bustier’s figure loomed up in front of him.

“Adrien, I understand history is not the most interesting of topics, but that wouldn’t explain why you keep slouching off.” She reprimanded.

“Sorry Ma’am, it won’t happen again.” He said quietly, apologetically, shuffling and straightening up.

“I hope not.” Mme Bustier turned to the class. “Now, back to the foundations of democracy. We all know that it wasn't created in a heartbeat. Can anyone tell me where the concept of democracy was born?”

Alert and attentive as Adrien wanted to be, the little crumpled ball of paper that landed on his desktop demanded everything else. Instinctively, his head shot up to ensure neither Nino’s nor the teacher’s eye caught the paper and when his doubts were cleared, he discreetly grabbed the ball. Looking around to confirm that he was the lone witness of the message, he unfurled the paper.

 

> _‘You okay? :\  –M'_

 

_She cared._ Despite the short time they spent together, she _cared._ Finally, it felt as if Adrien was included, somehow. He had always been a spectator of Marinette’s kindness, how it seemed to reach out to everyone, including himself only as of late. Her smile seemed to warm the coldest of days, and everyone loved being on the receiving end. Marinette always had one hand out to help others, the other usually steading herself as she stumbled. She had a natural charm that seemed to spread out to everybody. Heck, even usually-almost-always angry Ivan had a smile to offer her. And now Adrien got some of it, too. He didn’t know what made her reluctant to interact with him or what changed her mind, and a part of him didn’t want to know, just selfishly take whatever she—rather what _anyone_ was giving him.  

So, he didn’t hesitate to promptly fish out a pen from his bag and scribble a short response on the back of the crumpled paper.

  

> _‘Just lost in thought (=ↀᆺↀ=)  Can we walk back home together, Princess?’_

 

Whoops.

Adrien vigorously scratched off the nickname, ignoring the pointed, quizzical looks coming from Nino. Now was not the time for explanations. Adrien wasn’t sure what time _would_ be good for an explanation, he just knew one wouldn’t suffice to prove exactly _why_ he had a flirty nickname for a girl he just properly got to know. After all traces of the word were gone, he balled up the paper so it looked like it did when it plopped down to him, and expertly threw it backwards, towards Marinette. 

 ______________________________________________________________________________________

 

It went down her shirt. 

Of all the places it could’ve landed, the little message chose her shirt to slide down. Worst of all, Alya noticed. _Get ready, Dupain-Cheng, to have this held against you, for all eternity._ Alya giggled quietly. _Or at least till next Tuesday._ Marinette slowly grabbed the paper through the fabric, careful to not call attention towards her…ahem… _ordeal._ She prodded it upwards, simultaneously shooting a glare at the ever-giggling Alya. The note tumbled from her shirt onto the desk with a soft  _plip._ Marinette spread it out.

 

> _‘Just lost in thought (=ↀᆺↀ=) Can we walk back home together, ** ~~Princess~~**?’ _

 

She read it over. 26 times to be precise. _Why would he even need to ask?_

_Because he doesn’t know you’re utterly and hopelessly in love with the dork._ Yet. _What did he cross out, though?_ Marinette sighed. _It doesn’t matter, focus on the rest of the message, Mari._ She quirked her brow. _So he likes cat emojis, huh?_ A smirk lit up her face. _Well, two can play that game._

She didn’t keep him waiting, though. She really couldn’t. Silencing the questioning looks from Alya with an _I’ll tell you later_ one of her own, she nimbly tore out a piece of paper from her notebook, scrawling down a reply.

________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Why was she taking so long? 

_Maybe it was the cat,_ Adrien thought, _I shouldn’t have used the cat._ Bad cat. _She must think I’m a creep now. Way to go, kid._

Adrien sighed. He messed up. _Bad._ He was spazzing out and she was asking if he was alright, just like friends do. And Marinette was being herself. She was just being polite, she probably didn’t even care. He just  _had_ to go and ask for more. [Needy baby, greedy baby indeed.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWHmHmT_ZCM) Good job, Adri—

A paper ball landed in his lap. He suppressed a grin.

_Not bad for a creep._ He didn't know what to expect really, but this was not it:

   

> _‘Like you needed to ask._ =ↀᴥ<= _‘_

 

He took that as a yes.

________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Spill. Now.” Alya crossed her arms across her chest as the final bell rang out in the distance, indicating the closure of the school day.

“W-what are you t-talking about?” Marinette shouldered her bag nervously, cursing herself to for the stutter, as she tried to make a quick escape through the door. She failed.

Alya grabbed her friend's arm, tossing a wrench into any plans her friend had of leaving early, and shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Don’t give me that. You were tossing paper balls at the love of your life—“

“Alya!” Marinette hissed. “Not so loud!”

“And he was throwing them back! Girl, you got some explaining to do. You’re lucky you have the walk back home to talk.” Alya finished, with raised eyebrows, inquiringly. 

“I—uh, can’t really. I kinda sorta maybe told him I’d umm, walk back home with him?” Marinette offered. Alya’s brows arched higher, this time, suggesting congratulations. 

Then, as if on cue, Adrien popped up at Marinette’s shoulder. “Ready to go, Mari?” 

At this rate, Alya’s eyebrows would [fly off](https://41.media.tumblr.com/3b348210c0b0f192f828946fbb9f3a73/tumblr_o0mrfmd0tg1ugscajo1_500.jpg) her forehead into the sun.

“Well, don’t let me keep you and _Mari here_.” Marinette mouthed a _thank you_ to the redhead, which was returned with a look stating ' _I expect_ _an explanation and a couple thousand_ _croissants_ '.

“Great. Let’s go.” Adrien jerked his head in the direction of the door, oblivious to the silent conversation between the girls. Marinette took a wink from Alya as a dismissal and turned to the awaiting boy. “Yeah, come on.”

The pair walked in a comfortable silence to the door. Adrien shot a quick text to his bodyguard, informing her that he’d be walking home today. Marinette hummed silently to herself, swaying slowly as she did. The familiarity of the situation was agonising to both teens, but their minds didn’t relieve any memories. Just as the gate of the school came into view, the unmistakeable sound of _brat-in-expensive-daddy’s-money-shoes_ echoed off the walls. Chloe.

“ _Adrikins_! Where were you?” Her icy blue eyes turned to Marinette, the foundations of a glare easily spotted. “And what are you doing with _her_?”

Adrien’s expression remained neutral, but his eyes held the sparks of playfulness. “I believe I was walking Mari ho—“

“ _Mari?!?!”_ Chloe spat, incredulous.

“Home.” Adrien continued, unaffected by the outburst. “Wasn’t I, Marinette?”  He winked, hoping she would keep up the act.

Marinette caught on. “Oh, why yes, Adrien.” She directed her focus to Chloe. “But it seems you’ve ruined that plan.” She sighed dejectedly. “Whatever shall we do now?” 

The corners of Adrien’s mouth pulled up into an amused smile, but soon transformed into a feigned frown. “I suggest, _Mari,_ that we forget this little interruption, and continue with our agenda.” He turned to Chloe, all signs of mirth lost from his handsome face. “Is that alright, Chloe?” He raised an eyebrow in question, but it was clear he didn’t expect one. He didn’t hate her, but he didn’t exactly appreciate her ways of what she called friendship. 

Chloe’s make-up caked face pulled into a scowl. “ _What_ -ever.” Her eyes zeroed in on Marinette, who visibly stiffened under her gaze. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do. _It won’t work._ ” She spun on her heel, slapping the pair with her hair. Then, she turned back and through gritted teeth, added, "I'll make _sure_ it won't." She sashayed away, leaving an abashed Marinette in her wake. Adrien’s voice filled the silence that ensued. 

“Well, that was—hey, you okay? Don’t listen to her. That was just Chloe being Chloe.” He said simply, as if he’d said it a million times—he probably had. But something about her comment irked Adrien, as if it was something that had jabbed Marinette on a more personal level, and he wanted to be there for her, _boy,_ did he wanna be there for her, but he knew that it wasn’t his place—nor was _the_ place—to poke the matter with a stick.

“Yeah.” A lie. “I'm good.” Another lie. _How ‘bout a fake smile, huh, kiddo?_

Soundlessness followed, but this time, it wasn’t comfortable. The two foraged their minds for some topic that would save their awkward souls, but their brains blanked. Then, _Ladyblog._

Adrien cleared his throat. “So! I heard you helped out Chat Noir with an akuma last month. How was it?”

She knew he had asked her he same thing after the attack, but Marinette appreciated the attempt at conversation. “It was…nice? I did most of the work, though." She gave him a matter-of-fact smile.

Adrien was flabbergasted. As far as he knew, he did it all. _He_ hadsaved her from the sinking boat and _he_ was the one who rescued her from her failed date. “Pfft, really?” He challenged. “And what did you do?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. The pang of similarity struck Adrien again, but he hushed it, too eager to hear her explanation. “I practically told him how to use his baton when we were trapped in a box, _which,_ we wouldn’t have gotten into if he was a tad more careful.” Elaborate gestures busied her hands, working overtime to prove her point.

Adrien opened his mouth to argue, but then remembered how it all went down that night. He begrudgingly accepted that she _had_ done more of the work. _I'll let her take the credit this once._  “O- _kay_...so tell me, what do you like about him?” _Was that too straightforward? Too late; the damage had been done._

A chuckle caught his attention, “Chat Noir’s too good for himself.” A familiar smile tugged at Marinette’s lips as she stared into nothingness. “He’s loyal. He’s brave. He’s respectful. He’s strong. He’s reckless. He’s supportive.” She took a breath before she shrugged one shoulder. “And his puns are okay.” 

_Thank you, thank you so much,_ Adrien internally purred. “Do I sense a lover?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“ _Lover_?” She chuckled. “No, not a lover. More like his biggest fan.” 

Adrien’s cheeks heated up. People weren’t his fans. No, they were fans of Ladybug. Or of them as a duo. But not of him. The smile wouldn’t come off, and Adrien didn’t try to make it. He bit his lip. _You’re the reason I do what I do._

“What do you _not_ like about him?” The words rushed out before he could stop them. Adrien clamped down on his tongue, stopping any other such comments from escaping his rather big mouth. 

Marinette’s face scrunched up, like she was thinking hard, with her lips pooched into a pout and her thin eyebrows knit together. Then it relaxed, as if she had her answer. Adrien braced himself, unwillingly waiting to hear his faults. _You brought this one on yourself_. Then, she spoke, and all doubts dissipated. “The fact that he thinks he’s expendable.” 

He was rather taken back. She could have said he’s flirty. Or not serious enough. Or cocky. Or destructive. But she chose to say that he didn’t think of himself as enough? Of all the flaws he had, if he said so himself, she chose _this_ one? One that sounded more like a compliment than an imperfection? How? _Why_?

He cocked his head, as another question bombarded his mental bucket of overflowing ones. “How do you know him so well?” He dared to ask. Nobody really knew _him_ like that, well, except for Ladybug, but otherwise? He  _was_ pretty sure Marinette wasn't a stalker, but eh,  _you know kids these days._

Marinette looked stunned. She _really_ didn’t know how answer. _Oh, because he’s my best friend, my other half, my partner in crime? Yeah, that kinda means I’m the famous Ladybug. Surprise!_ “Alya! Yeah, uh, she talks about them a lot. You know the—er Ladyblog and all.” She managed to put together, pasting a guilty smile at the end. 

“Oh” was all Adrien managed to say, still somehow not convinced. He didn’t push it, and the view of the _Tom and Sabine Boulangerie and Patisserie_ didn’t encourage much more conversation. He faced Marinette, a small grin refusing to leave his face. “Well, see you tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, see you.” She agreed, as she put her hand on the door, ready to push it open. 

“Hey.” Adrien blurted, unsure why he did. “Thank you.” His hand reached up behind his neck, rubbing anxiously.

She smiled so warmly, it would give the sun a sunburn. “Anytime.” And she went in.

_Thank you._ Adrien mused, as he headed home, hands shoved into pockets, a sweet melody whistling out through his lips. _For not hating me. For caring. For giving me another chance. For everything._

________________________________________________________________________________________

 

_Thank you._

She had memorised the way his lips formed those words. The way his eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled. The way a pink had tinged his cheeks. The way he had scratched the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous.

Wind slapped against Marinette’s face. She breathed in the cool night air, and thanked the stars for today. She gripped the cold steel railing of her balcony, synchronously remembering her alter ego duty. _Can’t be late for patrol._

“Tikki! Spots on!”

Paris really was the prettiest at night. Twinkling lights were scattered across the town, like freckles across one’s face. The Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance as it watched over the nation. Chatter filled the alleys and streets as people bustled towards their homes after a day of work. Music wound its way into the hearts of individuals as they savoured the beauty of the night. Smells of baked goods wafted through the air, only to be answered by the growls of hungry stomachs. 

A spotted heroine leapt from roof to roof, a gentle breeze tousling her pigtails. She stopped at the sight of a leather-clad figure, and slowly crept up to a certain cat who hummed an unfamiliar tune; everything about his posture suggesting relaxation. 

“Hey, Chat.” Ladybug plopped down next to him, dangling her legs over the edge of the building. 

“My Lady.” His face centred, coming back from wherever he was. He copied his partner’s posture, with feet hanging and thighs brushing.

“You seem to be in a good mood.” She pointed out, giggling.

"Mm, I could say the same thing for you.” He countered, as he resumed his humming, this time slightly softer.

“May I be graced with the reason?” She asked, genuinely curious as to why her usually-silly kitty was so subdued all of a sudden.

He didn't answer immediately, instead, he found himself reliving the events of the day. Then, he faced her, eyes sparkling with admiration. “I made a new friend today.”

She chuckled, “Well, what are the odds... so did I.”

His gaze turned back to the city. “I used to think she hated me. Turns out she didn’t. We talked. It was nice.” He didn't give away much, respecting his promise of keeping his lives separate. It wasn't long before routine made a mischievous grin paint itself onto his features. “It could have been a _cat_ astrophe.”

Ladybug sighed, rolling her eyes. “The guy I met makes a lot of puns, too. You should meet him, ya'know, fall in love or something.”

Chat snorted, and bumped her shoulder. “Well, he certainly sounds like a _cat_ ch.”

“That was _pun_ believable, Chat.” She grimaced at her pun, simultaneously standing up as she brushed off indivisible dirt, seriously hoping he didn’t notice her word choice.

Turns out, he did. “My Lady! Did you _pun_? This is _paw_ esome.” He shot her a Cheshire cat grin; he stood up as well.

Ladybug glowered, “Yeah, yeah. Enough chatter, this city won’t patrol itself.” She concluded, unable to hide the small smile from her words.

“Was that _another_ one?” He bubbled. “Get it? _Chat-_ ter?”

_You make one pun and you’re branded for life._ Ladybug face palmed. “I’ll take the south side. You take north.” She unhooked her yoyo, shooting it towards a nearby building. 

“Very well. See you around, Buggy.” He bowed deeply before the he leapt off into the night, taking his puns with him.

Ladybug waited only a second before she slingshotted off, the ebony cloak of the night catching her and carrying her through her beloved city.


	2. Where Cats Are Saved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Chat gets hit by food, Marinette is just so confused, Tikki needs some sleep and cookies and Plagg just wants to be left alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im doing a rhyming chapter names thing :)  
> hope y'all like it cuz i cannot poetry for the life of me

An akuma just  _had_ to strike.

Hawkmoth could've waited till Marinette finished lunch, walked back to school with her friends, found a safe spot to transform and come up with an acceptable excuse for her tardiness to class but,  _noooooo,_ he just  _had_ to throw around his  _petite papillons_ while she was eating.  _If you're gonna be a villain, at_ least  _be a considerate one._

As the screams got louder, Marinette knew she had to do something. She stuffed another forkful of pasta into a her mouth for good measure (and hunger, cause  _God,_ she was starving) and was about to run to an alley she'd spotted for a transformation when Adrien's arm stopped her midway. His eyes held buckets of uncertainty. 

"Where are you going?"

_Oh great._

"I was uh—going to find Alya and Nino, yeah." Marinette wasn't a fan of lying, although her false justifications for her disappearance begged to differ, but doing it on a daily basis took some of the guilt away. Yeah, there's really no good way to say she was very used to untruthfulness.

Adrien nodded slowly, as if he was considering the action. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Then, opened it again. "Stay safe." And he sprinted away, who knows where.  _God, he looked good when he ran._

 _And stay safe?_ Ha. Haaaa. Right, sure. As safe as a teenage superhero battling an evil grandpa with a bunch of evil butterflies, under a suit dedicated to an insect with her feline partner, could get. Marinette turned to dash to the crook she'd spotted for a transformation, but got a faceful of the panicking crowd instead. Arms reached out to find the separated. Alarmed voices called out to each other, when another joined the chorus.

"I am Flourblaster!" Of _course_  you are."I am here for Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous! Hand them over and no one will be hurt." Yeah, like hell that's gonna happen.  _Would you like a sandwich and some coffee with that?_ It wasn't the time for sarcastic thoughts.  _Why can't_ _Chat Noir feel this way about his puns?_

It would be nice to say that the super villain stood tall, with his cape billowing in the wind and all that greatness or whatever, but that's not how it was. In fact, the criminal stood pretty short, around 5 feet, and the  _billowing_ about him was his chef skirt, covered with a stained apron. His skin was tinged red, and his face was adorned with a moustache that looked more like a giant squirrel than facial hair. His eyes glowed purple, in a freakish way, and his head was topped with a basket of breads. Yup, your typical Parisian akuma, straight from Hawkmoth's dusty, butterfly-filled lair. 

Marinette was ready to start ploughing down the Parisians around her to get to that damn alley, but that wouldn't exactly be what a model superhero would do, right? Then again, she wasn't a superhero at the time.  _Think, think,_ think!

"I'm afraid that's not possible." A cockier voice replied. Her partner jumped down from an adjacent roof. 

_Chat. Good. I gotta get there._

She pushed her way to the front of the crowd, where the fight was visible, and started yelling at civilians to clear the place. They surprisingly adhered. Marinette spun around to find another place to change into her alter ego, but turned to see Flourblaster hurl a baguette at her partner, who swung his baton, deflecting the blow easily. The battle ridden bread rolled to a stop at Marinette's feet. Meanwhile, the akuma rapidly fired croissants at Chat Noir. He twirled her baton, fast, to act like a shield against the tasty bullets, but one caught him off balance, and his staff flew from his grasp. Flourblaster advanced towards him, one hand swinging what looked to be breadstick nunchucks. Her partner's baton lay useless, a few feet from him. The baguette. The staff. Akuma. Chat. The seeds of a plan planted themselves into Marinette's head. She scooped up the French loaf, and broke into a run, sweeping up Chat's weapon as she neared the villain. 

Tikki had always told her that the superhero thing was a full-time job. She was chosen to protect the city at all times, spots or not. The kwami just gave her the powers, suit and weapon, but even without it, Marinette was Ladybug, and Ladybug was Marinette. Just two sides of the same person. So it was really a no-brainer that it was her natural tendency was to save her partner when he needed it, and the fact that spandex was not covering her at the time wasn't going to stop her. 

As she darted towards Chat, his eye followed her lithe figure, and realisation didn't exactly seem to hit him like a ton of bricks. Marinette took that as a good thing. Thankfully, the akuma didn't notice the shift in attention, and was solely focused on pelting the opponent with his buns.  _Wait, no, that sounds extremely wrong. Ugh, images._

Let's rephrase that: The akuma was solely focused on attacking his opponent with bread. Yeah, bread. 

As she got close enough, Chat braced himself, simultaneously assuring that the villain's eye stayed on him. Marinette slowed down, creeping up behind the baker, nodding to her partner over the villain's shoulder as she raised his weapon, indicating that he needed to catch it. She took a deep breath in. The young girl dropped the staff, kicking it in Chat's direction, as she steadied the baguette with both hands. She swung the loaf back and brought down on the akuma's head with all the force her civilian self could muster. 

_Crack._

Marinette didn't wait to see what had made the sound. She honestly didn't want to. She just hoped it was something her Miraculous Cure could fix. Her purse shifted restlessly, and she knew the transformation had to happen soon now. Marinette let her Ladybug instincts take over, so she did the first thing that came to her mind.

She did a backflip.

The teenage designer bent herself backwards, kicking her feet up and catching the akuma's chin. The world turned upside for a second. As her legs touched the ground again, a little wobbly from the sudden weight, she looked up to see Chat extending his staff in from top the villain, successfully trapping a very angry baker between the weapon and himself. He glanced upwards at Marinette, shooting a her a grateful smile. He appeared to be slightly winded, and some croissant shrapnel was tangled up in his already-messy hair. She abstained from walking up and picking out the pieces, and untangling it with her hands.  _Wait, no, I don't wanna do that._

"Thanks for the help, Princess." Cautiousness washed his features. "Now go find somewhere to hide. Ladybug's due any minute now..."

 _Yeah, I'm working on that bit._ She wasted no time; Marinette bolted to the nearest alley and opened her purse, slightly ripping it at the edges due to the force, but that could be fixed later.

"Come on, Tikki! Chat needs help." The kwami flitted out of the purse, unfazed. Tikki raised a nub, sighing tiredly.

"Just say the words, Marinette."

"Spots on!"

________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Adrien would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little glad to see a food akuma. Okay,  _very_  glad. The punnage possibilities! 

If only Ladybug would show up.

Don't get him wrong, Marinette had been the biggest help, and without her, he wouldn't been  _toast._ And that backflip?  _Damn, Marinette._ Though he was pretty sure that Nino and Alya weren't on this side of the battle, and probably far from it, he appreciated the help. And now, as he stalled the  _burnt bun,_ he desperately hoped that she was okay. 

But, Ladybug seriously had to show up soon. Not only did he want the akuma to  _cool down,_ he did, but Adrien was needed at lunch.  _Ah, lunch._

The past week had been a dream. Days fill of chatter and laughs. Lunches full of jokes and playful banter. Walks home full of eyeballs and puns. But the best of all had been the company of a certain pig-tailed someone. Under the stammering and profuse blushing, Marinette had proven to be a confident, sassy, sweet girl. Her smart comments and clever quips reminded him so disturbingly an experience he'd lived a million times before, one that made him feel like he needed to be somewhere above the city, with the strong wind caressing his face and ruffling his hair and a mask concealing his identity, but he was becoming a pro at suppressing the desire to encourage the thought, to see where it could lead him, for he was afraid it would somehow affect the comfortable relationship between him and Marinette. 

Of course, there were moments were her cool façade wavered, lifting a curtain to reveal the nervous and stuttering girl he knew previously. Whenever he leaned in too near, or when he made a rather flirty observation, or when his compliments offhandedly admitted how closely he paid attention to her clothes. Most confusing of all, anyhow, was how much he enjoyed doing it, how much he loved seeing her face turn into that beautiful shade of pink, ho much he adored watching her azure eyes widen ever so slightly at his uncalled-for remarks, how much he cherished being an audience to her soft (he assumed), cherry lips form that small 'o' at his teasing statements. 

 _Woah._ Slow down, boy; it's not like that.  _Yet,_ his brain supplied, unhelpfully.

Chat shook his head, a futile attempt to dislodge any such lingering thoughts. This was  _not_ how he should be feeling about her. He loved Ladybug! He needed to focus on the fight in front of him, and not on the way Marinette's shirt had lifted slightly when she did that flip—

_NO! Focus, Adrien!_

Right, focus on the battle! Focus on dodging the muffins! Focus on the akuma! Not on Marinette's slim long legs! Not on the  ~~cute~~  determined look on her face! Not on her oh-so-long lashes—

So much for focus.

Thankfully enough, Plagg's bad luck stash seemed to be running low, much like his cheese, and Ladybug finally decided to make an appearance. As she ran towards the akuma from behind, she tossed her yo-yo skywards. "Lucky Charm!" 

Welp, she wastes no time. 

A fishing rod. Gotta add that to the list of 'Extremely Weird and Wrong Lucky Charms That Just So Happened To Apparently Be Useful Enough To Save The World'. Like, okay, yeah, sure. Adrien and his father weren't close and no, no, they  _didn't_  go on super-cliché-but-fun fishing trips like most dads and sons, but  _seriously?_ Did  _everything_ need to support the sad fact?

The akuma growled, atypical for a baker, but he hadfaced weirder situations. However, the bizarre noise  _did_ bring him back from the self-piteous thoughts that clouded his busy mind.  _Right, it's a lucky charm, a weapon, not a aching reminder of the miserable relationship I share with my distant father._

As Chat progressed to distract the akuma with his antics, Ladybug's eyes raked her surroundings, searching for a way to use her called-upon tool against the villain, all the while throwing an apology towards her partner for her belatedness. 

"No worries, My Lady!" He paused to swing his staff. "I'm just glad our paths  _croissant_ again!"

_Finally!_

"Yeah, Chat, make sure the akuma stays still."  _Aaaaand, she ignored it?_ _That was amazing!_

But he did what she asked; he tried not to move about too much, so that his opponent wouldn't have to change positions to hit him, even if it meant getting hit with high-velocity bagels. Those hurt, by the way. Ladybug threw her yo-yo, looping it around the villain's arms, holding him in place. The akuma was definitely in the apron.

She swung the rod back, still clutching the offender through her yo-yo, then thrust the pole forward with practiced aim. The baker squirmed as the hook caught on the bow of his upon. Ladybug reeled in the fishing line, untying the overall, which fell to the ground in a heap. Chat bent down and snatched it up, tossing it to Ladybug, who tore it apart as soon as she caught it, releasing a black butterfly, which was purified a second later. She flung the fishing pole upwards, initialising the Miraculous Cure. No more puns. No more jokes. The fist bump happened, but it was hurried. Ladybug didn't wait to help up the civilian that now hunched over on the ground, his villainous powers lost after the akuma's release. She scurried back to the alley she came from, to detransform. Chat did the same.

Like her, he was in a hurry. Like her, his civilian life needed him.

 

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Come on, Marinette! It's not that hard.” 

“I know, Tikki! It's just one more paragraph.” Marinette slumped at her table, reading her essay over for the seventh time, while trying to come up with the closing paragraph. She sighed.  _Why do we need to know about the fall of the Roman Empire? They failed, good for them. Let us live._

“Okay, but don't take too long. It's already 11:00 and you have school tomorrow.” Her kwami squeaked, twiddling her nubby thumbs idly, before zipping up to her sleeping nest to rest, grabbing half a cookie from the plate of sweets on her chosen’s desk.

“Fine, I’ll just finish this in lunch tomorrow, then.” Marinette closed her books and put away her pencils, a yawn escaping her mouth, as she padded to the dresser to pick a change for the night. She switched off the lights, the room illuminated only by soft glow emerging from her bedside lamp. Settling with a soft white T-shirt and pink sleeping shorts, she pulled the ties from her pigtails, leaving her midnight-blue hair falling over her shoulders. She grabbed a hairbrush from her vanity stand, half-heartedly brushing the tangled mess. Another yawn crawled up her throat, but stop short one sounds of tapping came from her loft. Her skylight.

Ignoring the panic that welled up in her chest, she huddled close to her desk; away from the line of sight from the window upstairs, and retrieved the baseball bat that her parents made her keep for safety purposes. Never had Marinette thought she'd need it. After all, with being a superhero and that, she had picked up a few moves, and none required sports equipment. The young designer slowly made her way up to the bed, somewhat blind in the darkness, with her bat raised. The knock came again, this time a bit louder, and more insistent. She silently thanked the curtain that covered the glass of the window as she stepped upon her bed, teetering due to the unsteady ground. Marinette carefully pulled it back with one hand, transferring the weight of her makeshift weapon onto the other shoulder. She waited for someone to smash the glass, leap out at her, take her down, but what she saw made her drop her bat onto her bed with a thunk. 

She saw two very green eyes.

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

He really didn't know why he went to the Dupain-Cheng house. He didn't know what force propelled him to stop at her balcony. And he sure as hell had no clue what made him knock on her window.

As far as Adrien knew, he had just needed some air, and the solution was there in front of him, stuffing its face with cheese, as usual. A quick transformation later he was hopping from roof to roof, until his feet got him here. At first, he thought he could blame it all on sleepiness, a trick of the tired mind, maybe even on Plagg, but when his knuckles touched the cool glass of opening, it was all him. Adrien was aware that it was pretty late. He was well-versed with the fact that it was a school night. He acknowledged the detail that stated he was a guy and she was a girl. Heck, she was probably sleeping, like most 15-year-olds do. And what if she  _was_  awake. Then what? He could already picture the awkward conversation.

_Chat Noir! What are you doing here?_

_Uh, umm, I don't really know._

_Oh, uhh, okay?_

_Yeah, uh, bye then._

Yes, definitely awkward.

But something tugged him in the other direction. Something told him that he knew why he was here. And that, that was not how the discussion was supposed to go. That he would enjoy it all. And that regret wouldn't be one of the things he'd be taking with him when he left. But knowing the socially fiddly teenager that Adrien was,  _that_  would probably not happen.

He was about to turn back, leave, when—

"Chat?"  _And cue the awkward convo_. Her voice slightly muffled through the glass. Then, she turned the latch and opened the window. "What are you doing here? Is there an akuma?" Marinette had one hand up holding the window and the other resting on the frame.  _What am I supposed to say, again?_

It took a moment for Chat to respond; he was a little busy  ~~gawking~~   ~~adoring~~   _looking_  at the sight in front of him. He noticed that her Marinette's hair was free of its bounds, and was cascading over her slightly freckled shoulders. He so badly wanted to reach out and brush away that lingering, stray lock that rested on her cheek, but the impulse was ignored. Her sapphire eyes shone in the moonlight, twinkling, as if they were stars stolen directly from the sky.

"Chat!" Her voice came ore urgently this time, shaking the dazed cat out of his reverie. The concern made her eyebrows furrow slightly.

"Uh, hi, yeah."  _Real suave._ Marinette's studying gaze didn't help his crumbling composure."No, no, akuma." Chat looked down, unable to meet her fierce stare. 

There was no accusation in her voice, just worry. "Then, what are you doing here? It's late."

 _Good question,_ Chat's mind gagged.  _Let me get back to you on that when I figure it out myself._ He picked at his claws, still glancing downward. Something told him that she would be able to tell if he was lying, because  _gosh darn it,_ she just seemed to know him so well. "I was around." He coughed. "Then, I thought your light was on; I figured I'd see if you were okay."

"What, no puns?" she snorted, her words dripping with sarcasm. His deadpan stare made her cringe a little. "Sorry. What do you mean by 'okay'?"

Chat gathered his scurrying courage, and gave her the best Smolder™ he could, hoping it didn't bear too much resemblance to a grimace. "Well, yeah. After helping me out with the akuma, it is my heroic duty to ensure your well-being, Princess." That should do. 

Marinette blinked. "Well, I'm all in one piece." She pointed out simply.

Chat's shoulders dropped. "Oh. Yeah. Right."  _Why was he disappointed?_ He gave her a half-hearted smile. "I guess I'll take my leave then. See you around, Princess." The words were there, the emotion was not. He turned to face the railing, preparing to go. 

"Wait! Chat!" There was a sharp creak of glass, followed by a soft 'oww'. He whirled around, only to see that the hand that held the up window replaced by Marinette's forehead, and one arm extended, presumably to stop him. A pout pooched her lips, and she looked annoyed, honestly, more than hurt, but Chat took no chances. He lifted the glass, freeing her squashed face, and scanned her profile for any bruises. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes fluttered open. "Yeah, I'm used to it. Uh, just...wait here for a sec." She ducked back down to her bed, tripping over the sheets. Chat leaned into the frame, and could make out her dark shape scrambling down the stairs, before disappearing near her desk. Humming, he swivelled around to regard the roses that she grew along the banister, trying to find the one that matched her blush.  _That he noticed as a friend, of course._  When Marinette came back up, her hands held a small square box, tied together with a hasty red ribbon bow. Chat put both his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth of the balls of his feet. He hoped the gesture came off as cool, and not giddy. She stopped a foot from him and held up the box.

"They're cookies, freshly baked this evening." Chat took the box, eyes shining with gratitude.  _Maybe this is what was meant to be different._

"Thank you, Princess." He looked at the box. "This is more than I deserved."

"Well, you went through the trouble of making sure I was fine; I couldn't let you leave empty-handed." Marinette smiled genuinely.

They say that the eyes are the window to our souls. That every emotion is written there, plain to see. Then, why was it that when Chat looked into hers that he saw himself, without the mask?

Maybe it was something in the night. Maybe it was the smell of her hair. Maybe it was the twinkle in his eye. Or maybe it was the fact that the two had a connection greater than an acquaintance, but they found themselves leaning closer, eyes never leaving each other's. Chat glanced down at her lips, and by the way Marinette's eyebrows raised, it was clear that she noticed the move. He felt his eyes slowly lid over and  _why the hell are you not stopping, Adrien?_ She gulped, and looked away. 

" _Bonne nuit_ , Chat Noir."

He jerked backwards, because  _W_ _hat! Was! That!_ _Why did he almost kiss her?_ And why the  _hell_ did he think she'd kiss him back? This was Chat Noir that was on her balcony, Parisian superhero, personification of bad luck,  _supposed_ to be in love with his partner Ladybug, not anime-loving  _Adrien._ So why was he here? 

Setting his mental combustion aside, (for the moment, mind you) he stepped back, to the railing, facing the Paris night sky. He looked over his shoulder, drinking in Marinette's mortified appearance one last time, disregarding how his heart leapt at the sight of her. " _Bonne nuit,_ Marinette." And he vaulted off, his feelings scattering into the night with him.

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

She tried not to trip, she really did.

But the bed had other plans. And in her clumsy endeavours, she managed to knock over her lamp, which (didn't break but) caused quite a racket,  _which_ caused her kwami to groggily ask 'why she won't give me any more cookies' after being jostled awake.

Yeah, she tried.  

"Mariwette? What's happening?" Tikki rubbed her eyes, perching on her chosen's shoulder.

"Chat came." Marinette informed her, involuntarily reliving the awkward encounter.

Tikki yawned, but hung onto her every word. "What happened? Is everything okay?"

 _Was anything ever okay with her?_ "He said he was just around and wanted to check on me after the attack today."

"Oh." The kwami was wide awake now, and inwardly needing some cookies.

"Yeah, and we—we almost—"

...

"—kissed, Plagg. I almost kissed her." Adrien rubbed his temples, wishing he could undo everything in the past hour.

The little black cat shoved another piece of cheese into his ever-full mouth. "So? What's the problem?"

"The  _problem_ , Plagg, is that I'm supposed love Ladybug." 

His kwami set his next piece of cheese down, and raised one paw. "Look, kid, I don't know much about teenage fantasies—"

Adrien countered, "It's not a  _fantasy—"_ But Plagg was having none of it.

"But, I know that there's no one you're  _supposed_ to love. It just happens." He proceeded to stroke his cheese thoughtfully. "Maybe you do like Marinette."

Adrien stared at him, unconvinced. "She's just a friend, Plagg."

"You told me that the first time you met her. But honestly? Come on, kid, you fell in love with her then and there." Plagg waved the cheese about, fuming up the room with the stink that Adrien had long gone gotten used to. "You're just denying it all. Look at it this way. I love me my Camembert, but that doesn't mean I don't love Roquefort."

“She isn’t a cheese, Plagg,” Adrien deadpanned. “She’s a person."

Plagg waved his… _paw?_ ”Same difference, kid. Look, what I mean is—"

...

"It's not wrong to love two people at once, Marinette." Tikki bit into her cookie, savouring the melting chocolate on her tiny tongue.

"But I don't  _love_ Chat that way. I love, Adrien." Even as she said the words, she knew it wasn't true. 

"Marinette, you wrote it down in your diary! Don't you remember? You had said if Adrien wasn't there, you would have loved Chat Noir." Tikki dusted her nubby hands of any remaining cookie crumbs. "Besides, what's wrong in liking Chat? He's your partner and he loves you so much."

Marinette shook her head. "Tikki, for one, that's not fair. He's tried to win my love for so long, if one day, out of the blue, I tell him I feel the same way, it wouldn't be fair to him. And then, what if we have a fight? What if Hawkmoth gets to know who we are? We won't be safe."

Her kwami placed an understanding hand on her chosen's cheek. "Marinette, I know you and Chat Noir can work out whatever happens. For now, don't fuss over it too much. If you like both Adrien and Chat Noir, it's okay. It'll all work out in the end."

"I know, Tikki. But I really don't wanna mess up whatever we have, both with Adrien and Chat. I don't think I could—"

...

"—bear to see any of them hurt because of me, Plagg. Ladybug or Marinette."

Honestly, Plagg was just exhausted now. "Look, kid, if you try to control this whole thing too much, it definitely won't work out in the end. Just let things turn out the way the want to, and it'll be fine, I think."

"You know, you give good advice, Plagg." Adrien smiled, preparing to sleep.

"Yeah, well, I have my moments, just don't get used to it. You should sleep now." Plagg zipped over to his nest of blankets and socks to turn in for the night.

Even with the lights off, though, Adrien's mind couldn't find it's peace. 

On one side, was Ladybug. Confident, brave, amazing Ladybug. Ladybug with her generous talks. Ladybug with her beautiful eyes. Ladybug with her courageous fights. The golden moments he got to spend with her as Chat were incomparable, with her secret love for his puns and cheeky statements. But something about her gave off an untouchable sort of message. As if she were to remain a trophy, someone to be admired from afar, never closely, but loving her, he had signed up for an eternity of pining after her, hoping, that someday she could love him back.

And then, there was Marinette. Sweet, beautiful, smart Marinette. If Ladybug was a goddess, Marinette was a princess (hence the nickname). There was something enigmatic about her that made him curious from the start. Marinette with her clever comebacks. Marinette with her beautiful lips. Marinette with her heated arguments against Chloe. Everything about her made him smile. Yet, at the same time, something about her stayed secret, something concerning him and the way his name was always a surprise on her lips. 

While Ladybug had come barrelling through the door to his heart, taking up residence on his couch, Marinette had knocked politely and asked so adorably if she could be let in. Adrien couldn't say no to either, and could push neither out. 

Maybe he did have a crush on Marinette. Just a little. A lot.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next step? Getting her to like him.
> 
> hah.  
> haaaaaaaah.
> 
> oh adrien.  
> feel free to hmu on Tumblr; I’m astro-cookie!
> 
> no but seriously, talk to me.


	3. Where People Are Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Adrien tries to impress, Marinette tells everyone a joke, Nino gives a pep talk and Alya is worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for the comments and kudos! :D

They say that when you're in love with someone, the whole world seems to know it. The sun shines brighter. Flowers hold more color. Songs are sweeter. Food is tastier. Everything has more meaning. More importance. Appreciation isn't just a privilege anymore, it's a part of you. It's as if love were a filter, and your lifestyle was a photograph. Enhanced colors, more tuneful melodies, increasingly better days. Everything is affected. Naturally, they would think that if you were in love with two someones, it would all be  _even_  better.

Marinette begged to differ.

Life had turned into a swirl of colors and emotions, and trying to discern it all would just result in a headache. Confusion wasn't a scarcity, it was a necessity, especially to the state of being Marinette was in. It's like you're wearing two pairs of sunglasses at the same time; the shades keep shifting and trying to differentiate between what's real and what's not is impossible. Her brain seemed to be treasuring things as well as criticising others at once, and no amount of pep talks from herself or her kwami friend dissipated any of it. 

In short, she was  _bewildered._ Bewildered. Puzzled. Baffled.  _Lost._ And guilty.

She knew she shouldn't be repentant. Loving someone was supposed to feel like a door opened, not like one shut in your face. But some part of her was dying with culpability because she felt as if she had been unfaithful to Adrien, the supposed-to-be one love of her life. Marinette was well aware of the fact that whatever they had was pretty platonic,  _even though_  a fraction of her soul fought to believe the opposite, and that she knew she had to no reason to feel at fault if she  _had_ kissed Chat. But still, she liked her record of loyalty spotless, and now, Chat had just stepped all over it with his muddy paws. 

Tikki had told her that she was allowed to love more than one person at a time. Whoever loved her back would be the one, and feelings of the other would have to be shed and forgotten, like a feather exuviated from a bird's wing. But would she ever  _really_ stop liking either? Would all those affections  _ever_ be lost in the wind? 

Yes, she had finally admitted to liking Chat. All her self-control had once built a dam, the reservoir behind it holding in all her love for her partner. The embankment had never wavered, never leaked into the river of her duty. But that near-kiss had been a wrecking ball to the heart of the barrage. And now all that water flooded the canal of her superhero job, and headed for the waterfalls of her love for Adrien, coalescing the two streams into one big lake of her uncertainty. 

It wasn't like she was trying very hard to hide it all. The last two patrols had been a mess of words and moves. Chat, ever gentlemanly, had never said anything about it, just like Adrien never commented on her stammering. More of Marinette was present than Ladybug at the time. She kept stealing lingering glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Her face never failed to produce that dazed smile (yes, same as the one she had near Adrien) when Chat was talking to her. Her cheeks lit up every time he winked (which was quite a lot) and her overemphasised laughs at his puns were always answered by concerned looks. 

And that was just  _perfect_ , because now the number of 'people who thought she utter freak, but were too nice to say anything' had hiked up to 2. And  _that_ was  _not_ acceptable for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

Being a designer's son had its perks, really. One of the most prominent ones being the clothes. 

Adrien had mentally designed himself a step-by-step plan on wooing one of the two-loves-of-his-life.  _If that didn't sound too player-like._  As Chat, he had just gone and done it, with no thought whatsoever, not any sort of social sieve to save him from the dilemmas of speech. Maybe that was the reason Ladybug steered clear. As Adrien, he didn't want to botch up his slivering chances with Marinette, so, he did the first thing he thought of. 

He made a plan.

His model life had really imposed the skill of schedule-making (yes, that's a skill) on him, and it was one now woven into his daily activities. Procedures weren't all that different. It was simple really, every action had to have a purpose and every move had to be thought out. First and foremost, he had to change his attire,  _which_ wasn't very hard, considering he was a model. Literally. So he switched his usual black shirt, white jacket and jeans with more trendsetting,  _voguish_ garments. As a fashion designer, Marinette would definitely notice the new look, involuntarily checking him out, to which he would make a smart comment and she would swoon into his arms, captivated by his unquestionable charm.

It was definitely worth the delay to school, as well as the admonishment from Nathalie. And while many students and classmates had commended him for the ensemble as he strolled to his class, there was only one person he wanted the flattery from. And that person stood near the teacher's desk, chatting relaxedly with Rose and Juleka. The sunlight streamed in through the long windows, placing a golden finger on Marinette's head, tinging her hair blue.

It was funny how small things you never saw before come to light when you fall in love with someone.

The familiar weight of Nino's hand pressed down on Adrien's shoulder, making him turn to face his best friend. Nino looked him over, a whistle of appreciation droning out from his mouth.

"You have fallen  _way_ too hard, dude." He marvelled, at last. Adrien's grin dropped. 

"What? Do I look funny? Is it too much?" He patted his face self-consciously. Maybe the new hairstyle could have been left out. And the new watch. Was the cologne okay? It wasn't a joke when he asked if it was too grand, because if Nino thought  _this_ was extravagant, then the rest of his plan would sound like a joke. 

Nino laughed good-naturedly. "No, man. You look really good. Its just," He looked Adrien over once again, making the model feel naked, "Are you trying to impress Marinette, or get her to faint?"

Adrien's cheeks flushed. "I-whaa? Marinette. Psssshhh. Nah. I just-uh, umm." He hung his head. "There's no way to deny it, is there?" He conceded, and Nino laughed again, though none of this seemed funny to Adrien. 

Seeing his best friend's disgruntled expression stopped the music-lover. "Sorry. It's just so cute, the way—"

"What's just so cute?" Alya interjected, jogging her way up to the pair. "Nino, I swear, if you've been breaking into the hospital to look at newborn babies again, I will shove your headphones so far up your—" Alya's gaze turned to Adrien, giving him the same scanning look as Nino's. "Oooooh. Someone's trying to impress my bestie." She smiled suggestively.

Adrien put his head into his hands, successfully messing up his tediously-combed hair. "Is it  _that_ obvious?"

Nino gave him a knowing look. "To the best friends who know everything about you, yes." He silenced Adrien's oncoming protest with a finger. "To Marinette, no."

Alya snorted in agreement. "Yeah, she's literally the blindest person you know when it comes to people." With a contemplative shake of her head, she added, "Well, other than you."

Adrien protested, "Hey! I'm not blind. I'll have you know—" 

"Look, here she comes, dude." Nino gave him a thumbs-up, and peeped at his watch. "You have 15 minutes till the teacher gets here. Just don't—"

Alya looked apologetically to Adrien, who looked like a deer in the headlights, tugging her to-be boyfriend away. "Nino, come  _on._ You're gonna ruin my ship."

 _Ship?_ Adrien whirled around to face Marinette, who had her eyebrows up in question, but said nothing. She quickly looked him over, a slightly dazzled smile quirking her lips. He really wished people would stop scouring him like that; it made him feel vulnerable. He raked a hand through his hair: an attempt to shuffle it back into place and to look cool. He was afraid the latter didn't match the rest of his expression. He took a deep breath, channelling his inner Chat-tiness.

"Like what you see?"  _Did that sound too direct? Did he smile too wide? Lose the hand, Adrien._ He brought his hand back down to hang lamely by his side, and shoved the other into his back pocket.

Marinette's smile had gone through quite the transformation. Impressed, at first. Amused, afterwards. And now, it was just embarrassed. Bright red spots adorned her cheeks, but her eyes held some sort of defiance, as if she refused to act like a complete dork.  _I feel you, Mari._  

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't." She didn't wait for a response, thankfully, since Adrien didn't have one to offer, and added. "It looks nice." The blush diffused, and she had the beginnings of a smirk playing at her lips.

"Thank, Mari."  _I did it for you._ He smiled.

Her eyes widened, and the color flooded back to her cheeks. His face followed suit as he processed what had just happened.  _He'd said that out loud._ The two teens gawked at each other in the hush that followed.  _Well, if step one fails, there's always step two._ Step one hadn't lacked success, per say, just backfired slightly, but officially? The  _wooing_ part of the plan was still left. 

Which brought us to the next move: the gift.

As Marinette slowly recovered, the red in her cheeks fading to a dull pink, Adrien clumsily reached inside his jacket, crumpling his shirt and snagging his watch on a few loose threads.  _Get a grip, Adrien, seriously._ Once he reached the right pocket, he pricked his fingers on the thorns lining the stem of the flower. Gazing at the plants on Marinette's balcony a couple nights ago (as Chat) had ignited a lightbulb in his mind, and it wasn't until last night did he realise that he could really use it. He brought out a rose, its petals slightly crinkled, but a beautiful bloom nonetheless. It was a pale rosy color, tinged salmon at the petal-tips, and a darker pink at the bud. It's corolla swirled outward, each petal curving delicately and elegantly. Finding it had been quite a task. 

Adrien had to ask Nathalie to find a flower shop, all the while trying to convince her it was for a science assignment. He was so sure he saw her smile faintly at the blush that pinked his cheeks as the request tumbled from his mouth. Adrien had spent at least fifteen minutes describing the ideal rose to the clerk at the shop, who told him none he desired existed. He'd begrudgingly settled with the one he had gotten, but had to admit that this was truly magnificent itself. It was a shame that the smell had decreased considerably, after rubbing against the cloth of his jacket, but it still got the reaction he expected from his ( ~~to-be girl-~~ ) friend.

As Adrien presented the floret to the girl in front of him, her face flamed scarlet. Marinette's lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes, now questioning, looked up at him. 

"I got you this." He spoke, remembering the lines he had practiced in the car. "I'd found a rose bush on the way here, and I tried to find one that mirrored your beauty, but... there were none. I hope you like it."

He was positive he broke her. 

______________________________________________________________________________________

  

Fate couldn't have chosen a better day for Marinette.

Actually, scratch that, screw fate. Her stupid luck  _could_ have gone the extra mile and picked a better day for the love of her life to go cliché on her. Her hair could use a shampoo. Her clothes hadn't been changed in  _two days._ And her breath smelled like garlic.

Basically, she was a mess. More than usual, anyhow.

And yet, Adrien looked at her like she was his world. Marinette knew she should be soaring with glee, and she was,  _part of her_ anyway, but suspicion clouded her thoughts. Sure, he had been acting nice, but this was a whole new level of chummy. It was as if someone had written a story about the two of them falling in love, and although Marinette should have remembered, her brain recalled no such memory. This whole time, whatever Adrien had done, it was through the hand of friendship. Suddenly, the hand had shifted, absent to Marinette's knowing and transformed into something more than amity, but less that adoration. 

Chat would've called it flirting. 

Yeah, if Marinette wasn't mistaken, and she sure hoped she wasn't, Adrien  _whatever-his-middle-name-is_ Agreste was  _flirting_ with her. While  _she_  was spinning mental circles, butt-jiggling in all her glory and victory as she physically ogled her crush while he presented her with a rose. Wait, no, that's not how it's supposed to go.  _Get a fricking grip, Marinette_ , her mind commanded.  _Uh, guh, what did he say again?_  

_"...found a rose bush on the way here, and I tried to find one that mirrored your beauty."_

Nope, no more blushing. Really, it wasn't possible. 

_"...but... there were none. I hope you like it."_

I take that back. With the amount of blood rushing to her cheeks, Marinette's legs should have pruned up underneath her. It was truly miraculous. She blinked to steady herself, but it hardly worked. She raised a hand to her face to cover what she could of the flush, though judging from the infinitesimal smirk on Adrien's face, he'd seen it all already. This really wasn't fair. He could do that. He couldn't be handsome and pretty  _and_ philander like that. No, that wouldn't do. He would  _not_ win this time. 

Being Ladybug, she had to have intelligent responses up and ready to fire, mostly with Chat Noir, albeit the last few instances. But it _had_ given her practice on acquiring what she wanted, and how she wanted it. A useful tool with guys. 

Marinette took a deep breath to stabilise her falling nerves, for whatever it was worth. She smiled at him, sweetly enough o give him sugar rush, and plucked the rose out of his trembling hands. "I love it."

She brought it up to her nose, inhaling it though lidded eyes. "Thank you." Marinette batted her lashes innocently, and turned to walk to her desk, swaying her hips a little more than she intended to. Before sitting down, though, she twirled the rose easily, and threw Adrien a small wink. The poor boy looked so stupefied, it was almost too much to be funny. Almost. 

Mme Bustier glided into the class, a clipboard hugged to her chest as usual. She ushered the chatty students into their seats and took her place at the blackboard. Adrien mumbled a dazed 'de nada' and slunk into his chair beside Nino, who leaned over and snickered something into his ear. Alya looked at Marinette impressively and winked at her in congrats. But Marinette's attention was solely focused on her Adrien, who stammered something incoherent to his desk buddy, resulting in a dubious Nino staring back at her. He mouthed a silent 'what did you do to him, woman?' to which he got a guiltless shrug in return.  _Oh yeah, she had definitely won this round._

As class continued to pelt the minds of kids with useless information, Marinette doodled away to her heart's content. Nothing important, but it was a good way to shut off the assail of notes from Alya.  _Wht hapend gurl? Wht did he do???? Roseeee????_

Love you Alya, but kindly shut the hell up.

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

Nuh uh. Nope dee do.  _No_. 

It was not fair. Not one bit. She wasn't allowed to stump him like that. She couldn't be adorable and sweet  _and_ flirt. She couldn't leave him gaping at her like a fish gulping for air.  _That_ was what  _Adrien_ was supposed to do to  _her._ As he waited for the cheap few minutes of class to tick by, images of Marinette's coquettish response flitted through his head like bullets. The beautiful pink her face had taken on as she accepted his rose. The fan of her long lashes over her cheek as she breathed in its ambrosial scent. The precious glint in her eyes as she thanked him. The spring in her step as she walked away. The pout in her cherry lips as she winked his way.

 _Two could play a game._  Never had he understood what that meant. Now he did. As his superhero persona, he'd danced around the line of flirt and adulation with his Lady, and she'd always been quick to play him down, but she never encouraged it, never lead him on. So, naturally, he would be a total neophyte to being flirted back with. But he  _was_ a quick learner, and he didn't give up easily. If he had, 14 years of house arrest would have been more than enough to dampen his yearning for freedom. Suffice to say, though, his plan was failing, miserably, thanks to a blue-haired beauty, and that was okay, _because it must be a sign_ , right? There must be another way to get her to love him. 

Adrien spent the rest of his day mind-wandering to find that way. Notes were neglected. Questions were unanswered. Quizzical stares were ignored. Doodles littered the margins of his notebooks, mostly of bugs and hearts, though they were scratched out when teachers patrolled the class. His subconscious seemed to be fixed on conjuring up all sorts of romantic notions that he would never have the audacity to look through. Adrien was sure he had a dent in his ribs from the number of time Nino had nudged him back to reality, which had saved him nearly a dozen scoldings. Four other times, he wasn't so lucky. 

He really had no clue when his tiny crush had blown up into something this big, but he didn't regret one bit of it. It was quite the opposite, actually, and denying it would correctly identify as a white lie. When they changed classes, he would catch a glance of Marinette in the hallways, with her fingers wrapped daintily around the rose,  _his_ rose, and his chest would swell with infatuation. By lunch time, every inch of his brain had been mapped, and by then, both his stomach and Nino were concerned. Deeply.

The first problem was easy to take care of. The second? Not so much. It was clear that Nino had had enough of this out-of-his-wits Adrien.

The music-lover pulled his best friend into the hallway, out of sight from Alya and Marinette, who chittered excitedly inside the class.

Nino put his hand on Adrien's shoulder. "Okay, what is  _up_ with you, dude? You've been super out of it for the whole day now."

Adrien rubbed at his face groggily. "Nothing, man, just sleepy. Sorry."

Nino didn't buy it; he narrowed his eyes, then, slapped his forehead in realisation. "This is about Marinette, isn't it? What even happened then? A _rose_?" He grinned. "Oh my god, wait till I tell Alya about this. She'd love to get you and Mari together."

That jostled Adrien awake. "What? No! You can't tell Alya, or anyone. Bro code, dude!" He hissed.

Nino raised his eyebrows matter-of-factly. "Are you gonna tell _Mari_ , then?" Adrien squeaked ungracefully. "Yeah, thought so. Look, man, I want you happy. Just get together already."

"What if she doesn't feel the same about me? What do I even tell her, huh? 'Hey Marinette, I was spazzing out again and it was because I really like you, Nino tells me you like me, too. Let's get together and hold hands and stuff.' Yeah, nothing wrong about  _that._ " Adrien deadpanned.

"Yeah, perfect. Good for you, man. Glad I could help." Nino clapped his shoulder, smiling triumphantly.

Adrien groaned. "You  _didn't_."

"Just tell her how you feel, dude. Oh! And use big words. Girls love big words." Nino suggested.

"Yeah, I'm sure the ladies just  _love_ big words, but none of that matters  _if she doesn't like me that way._ " The blonde shouted. His friend's smile vanished. 

Nino whirled around, arms flying to his head in frustration. "Oh, for the love of unwanted mix-tapes." He faced Adrien, hands clutching at his friend's shoulders. "Just trust me on this one, okay? I wouldn't say it if it didn't mean good."

Adrien took one look at the wells of desperation and plea in his best friend's eyes and gave in. "I know, Nin. I  _will_ tell her. Just let me do this my way, okay?"

Nino straightened up, adjusting his cap and glasses, both of which were dangling precariously due to his abrupt movements. "Okay, man. I'm here for you, bro."

He held out a fist to bump, but Adrien knocked it aside, diving it for a hug. "Thank you, Nino." It wasn't everyday that you're best friend made excuses for your daydreams, took the blame for your slumping  _and_  gave you unhelpful advice for girls, but apparently his annoying luck  _could_  change sometimes.

"And, here I present to the  _macho,_ manly boys of our generation." Alya's voice came, sarcasm dripping from her every syllable. 

Adrien flailed away from Nino, dislodging his best friend's hat yet again. He gave them a sheepish smile as he untangled himself from Nino. Marinette walked out to join the group, leaning on the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. 

"Oh, shush, Al, let 'em be." She chided. 

Adrien copied her mock glare. "Yeah,  _Al_ , let us be." Nino flipped his hat upwards, shifting it up in place. 

He raised his chin conceitedly. "Mm-hmm, we were having quite the moment."

Marinette face-palmed, and snorted. Alya walked over to her best-friend and rested her elbow upon Marinette's shoulder. "I'm sor- _ry_  for ruining said moment. But I thought you'd wanna know that the café's closed today." She waved her phone, jingling the Ladybug keychain. "I got a call."

Adrien's eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, then what about lunch?" He put forward hesitantly.

Marinette raised her hand, displacing a certain ombre-haired journalist from her perch. "That, I got covered. I brought a bunch of extras from the bakery." She counted off the list on her fingers. "Cookies, muffins, pastries, croissants—"

Nino pumped a fist in the air. "Yissss,  _croissants._ It's been forever since I had those."

Adrien narrowed his eyes, punching his friend lightly in the arm. "You had one yesterday, dude."

Nino glared at the blonde, so viciously that Adrien cowered in his gaze. "No, but, like Mari's are  _gold_. Have  _you_ ever had one?"

"Uh, no?"

Adrien was met with three gasps. It was Alya who was the first to break from her astonishment. She strode forward, placing her hands on his shoulders. She looked him dead centre in the eye and spoke in a deep voice, "Well, it's 'bout time, son." She flicked her head back, towards Marinette. "Croissant me, Mari."

Marinette ran to her carrier, producing two large brown paper bags from her parents' shop. Setting one on the table in the class, she brought the other one to the gang. Marinette reached in, and after a fair bit of rummaging, she got out a golden crescent. Marinette handed the  _viennoiserie_  to Alya who promptly shoved the treat into Adrien's mouth.

"Eat."

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

The little party had moved downstairs, into the school courtyard, where the breeze danced freely across the air and the muffled bustling of the city could be heard through the walls of the building. The damp, wet smell of water and moldy bread hung in the air. Crumbs and discarded napkins surrounded the group of teenagers, who sprawled over each other on the ground, discussing all the possible backstories to their famed superheroes.

Alya rested sideways on her elbow, and Marinette balanced her head on the journalist's stomach. Nino's head lay on the ravenette's ankles while Adrien trapped his best friend's legs with is torso. The four would create a sloppy square with their bodies, if looked at from a bird's eye view, with a small pile of treats in the centre. It was a comfortable arrangement, especially to the squad who had gotten so close over the last couple weeks. Banter rose from the group like steam from a pot. The ideologies born from their discourse of the heroes ranged all the way from descendants of previous superheroes or mutant aliens from another dimension. 

_If only they knew._

Marinette didn't indulge too much into the conversation. Instead, she flipped through the archive of photographs on the Ladyblog. It would be a miracle if her big, clumsy mouth failed to fabricate a fact from her life for real, throwing Alya headlong into another dangerous enquiry about the famous duo. But, she did, from time to time, throw in a random theory into the colloquy if the other three got too close to the truth, just to throw them off.  

Plus, the photos on the blog were spectacular. Most of them, anyway. Some of them portrayed the highly unflattering side of the heroes, with awkward expressions and funny faces. Others were able to collate every little experience and make it a picture, with breathtaking stances and stunning looks. She saved those snaps into a folder that she'd show Chat Noir during the patrols; he would surely love them. It was a picture of her and her partner that made Marientte abruptly sit up, curling her feet towards herself and causing Nino's head to suddenly hit the ground with a painful thud.

"Ow, dude, what gives?" He moaned, rubbing his crown. 

"Sorry, Nino." She turned to Alya, phone shoved in the redhead's face. "Al, did you take this photo? It's amazing."

It really was. The snapshot had been taken from an alley of sorts, judging by the gradient and angle. Ladybug's yo-yo was thrust outward, beyond the edges of the frame and she herself was looking backwards. Backwards towards Chat Noir, whose pose resembled a cat's, and appropriately so, with his knees pulled up into a mid-air crouch. Their eyes were locked and gleaming smiles adorned their faces. Chat's hair caught the sunlight in the most perfect way, and the white of his teeth was nearly blinding. Both his hands were clasped around his baton that extended out from below him, and the pair seemed to be involved in a cat-and-bug chase through the city, when in reality, it was just an afternoon patrol. 

"Yeah, it is. But, I didn't take it. A follower sent that snap a week ago." Alya explained. "Ladybug looks awesome." 

Yeah, okay, she did, but what about Chat Noir? He looked like an angel picked from heaven.

Marinette handed the phone to Nino and Adrien, who stared, awed, at the photo. "Yeah, she does." Adrien sighed, rather wistfully.

"Are you guys serious? Are you even looking at Chat Noir? He looks amazing." Marinette asserted forcefully, and if she wasn't mistaken, she saw Adrien's face flush a dark pink.

"Uh, yeah, him, too." He sputtered, rubbing his nose.

Alya's eyebrows rose almost at the same time as the smirk broke onto her face. "Oh, so that's a thing now? You and him?" Adrien coughed and flushed a darker shade, but Marinette wasn't paying attention to that. Her eyes were fixed on Alya. 

"Wh-what? Me and him? I don't—" She blushed harshly.

"Oh, come on, Mari." Alya sharply stated, glancing at Adrien sideways, mischievously. "We all know you've got a _thing_ for him."

" _What?!_ " She shook her head. "No, no way, it's not like that."

Adrien had gotten tired of being an audience, apparently—"Your blush begs to differ."—Because Marinette was quite sure it as his voice that said that.

Alya cackled. Nino got his mental popcorn ready. Marinette scowled. "I've just met him couple of times. I don't like him that way." She said insistently, and fiercely. 

If she had been looking at Adrien, she would have seen a flash of hurt assault his face and pain course through his features, but Marinette's eyes never left Alya's face. Alya, who just wasn't ready to let this go. "Whoa, hold up a second." She held up a hand to emphasise her previous statement. " _Couple_ times? I thought the akuma attack was the  _only_  time."

By this time, Nino was ready to join in, too, much to Marinette's annoyance. "Yeah, Mari, when did you meet Chat Noir?"

It was quite clear what happened next. She panicked. "I, uh, met him... yesterday. Yeah, yesterday." Adrien visibly stiffened at that, and narrowed his eyes. It was as if he could see right through her, and pick out the lies like rocks from sand. 

"Girl! What happened? What did you do? What did he say?" Alya chirped up, too excited to be angry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Marinette didn't know what to say. She hated lying. She  _hated_ doing to to her friends. So, she told the truth. "I was out for a bakery delivery and I met him near the _Théâtre de la Ville_. He just asked me where I was going... And he told me a joke." Well,  _p_ _artly_  the truth.

Alya's amused expression fell. "A _joke_." 

"Yeah, it was really funny. He asked if I needed a lift anywhere, and I told him I could handle it. He said it was 'great to see a good baker  _rise_ to the occasion, but, really, it was the  _yeast_ he could do.'" Marinette finished, remembering how her partner had told her that during yesterday's patrol, and how hard she'd giggled at it because of her personal relation.

Alya and Nino burst out laughing. Adrien looked shell-shocked. His eyes bugged out at her and his mouth fell open. "Come on, man, that was funny." Nino coaxed, nudging his friend. 

Adrien weakly laughed. "Heh, yeah, especially... since, she's like a bake— a baker, after all. Yeah. Ha. I'm going to the bathroom." He slowly sat up and bolted to the restroom, his eyes glued to Marinette's in uncertainty. 

Now, she was just concerned. Had she said something wrong? He looked so pale after the joke that Marinette was afraid she'd mentioned something personal, but from all the stalking-slash-researching she did based on him, she had never come up upon anything that related to baking-pun-dilemmas. 

Nino chuckled one last time, picking up the flying napkins and muffin liners. "Dude must really have to go." Alya giggled.

Marinette winced, because, _clearly_ , he didn't. There was something she'd said. Something she'd done. Adrien never fled like that, never  _vamoosed_ like that. Even if it was an emergency, he would excuse himself like a gentleman and calmly walk away, not that she stared his butt when he did, because  _that was just creepy._ She stuffed all the remaining treats into a brown bag, and rolled it shut, lost in thought all the while.  

"Hey, Mari, if Chat Noir comes again, call me, okay? I need an interview with him." Alya shook Marinette's shoulder. "Okay? Mari? Marinette!" She yelled into the designer's ear.

"Ow, yeah, okay, Alya." She poked her earhole with a pinky. "Though I doubt he's coming back."

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

He was okay. He was fine. Right?

Wrong. They say laughter is a natural medicinal instinct of the body to prevent stress. That could at least begin to explain why Adrien had locked himself in the boys bathroom and was giggling hysterically to himself as Plagg awkwardly stared at him from his seat at the sink. He also needed some chocolate, like, right now. _Why?_  

Because he was stressed. Stressed. Panicking. Anxious.  _Worried._ And honestly? Kinda excited.

Because Marinette had claimed to have met Chat Noir, _him_ , yesterday, near the  _Théâtre de la Ville._ The place where patrol started. The place where he and Ladybug had sat side-by-side, with their feet dangling over the edge, watching as a stream of people cascaded out of the auditorium and navigated their way through the 4th Arrondissement, before they had hopped away to do their duty. Yesterday. The place where they had discussed the baker akuma attack. The place where he had been able to make up for all those lost puns. The place where he had told Ladybug the same joke Marinette recalled to them today. Yesterday.

The same place where Ladybug had giggled, for the first time, so hard, at  _his_ _puns._

The same place where Marinette had supposedly met him during a bakery delivery, when in reality, he hadn't seen her as his superhero self in at least a week. 

The same place where Chat Noir had told Ladybug and Marinette the same joke. 

The same place he had stared at them in utter awe.

The same place they had laughed.

Because if he wasn't mistaken, the sky was blue, grass was green, snow was cold and fire was hot. Because if he wasn't fallacious, he was a fool, he was blind, and Alya was right about it. Because if he wasn't inaccurate, Ladybug had laughed at his joke because of the coincidental connection she shared with it, not because of its humour. Because if he wasn't wrong, he hadn't fallen in love with two girls at once; he had simply fallen for the same one twice.

Because if he wasn't incorrect, Ladybug was Marinette and Marinette was Ladybug, and he was an idiot to not have figured it out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, hey everyone, apparently I'm //not// dead. (Adrien might be tho).
> 
> First of all, I have got to apologise to you amazing people.  
> A) For the delay in updates. School's back, and it's being mean.  
> B) For the extremely crappy chapter. I hate this one, and it apparently hates me, too. I forgot to save it and the whole thing deleted itself like thrice. I'm really sorry, and this isn't what you guys asked for, I know. It's really not fair, but the chapter //is// important to the plot and story. I'm super sorry once again. 
> 
> Next update, I promise will be better and faster. I wanna get this story finished before school gets too intense and I'm forced to leave this unfinished. Really sorry, guys. :(


	4. Where Hearts Are Bruised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Chat gives horrible advice, Marinette talks, Adrien messes up and Alya's too curious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all.
> 
> I just wanna tell every single one of you amazing peoples who have read this fic that you are the best in every possible way and I love you all and your support. It means so much. Every time I see a hit, or a kudos, or a comment, it just makes my day and I cannot ask for more. If you've seen this work on the 'recently updated' list too many time without a change, it was because of minor typos that I saw later. Sorry, everyone.
> 
> This chapter is bit a bit busy. Lots 'a thing happen in this one. Also
> 
> angst. angst. angst. angst.
> 
> EDIT: Sorry, I keep updating the tags, and it automatically shows on the 'recently edited works'. Watch out for the chapter numbers, that's how you'll know if the story is updated.

The autumn breeze carried a sense of safety with it. 

With undertones of heat and warmth, the gentle wind embraced your shoulders, as if it were a zephyr-like scarf. It evoked loving memories and tender hugs, bringing back the days of childhood when life was carefree. As the world turned a shade of fire, and the sky stained itself grey, piles of leaves crunched underfoot. The chill in the air betokened the coming of winter and the closure of summer.

Gone were the days where frolicking filled your time. Gone were the moments when gambolling wasn’t just a luxury, but inbuilt into your loose schedules. Gone were sunny smiles and toothy grins, replaced by cosy cuddles and hushed giggles. Muddy rain-boots took the place of sandy flip-flops. Woven sweaters took the place of floppy tank-tops. Steaming mugs took the place of icy popsicles. 

The long days of aestival heat and sunburnt skin crumbled away to the benign waft of nature and the sweet hum of everyday life. The sudden hush of wildlife was both disconcerting and peaceful, at the same time. Like the quiet after a storm. Like the still after a river of ripples. 

If summer was a breath of fresh air, autumn was a gust of wind. If summer made memories, fall wrote stories. If summer had left a mark, autumn had painted a picture. If summer was a crush, fall was an obsession. 

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

"Yeah, Al, I know." Marinette sighed, idly scribbling at her homework under the light of her computer, which flashed a tiny 9:34 pm. "Question 3 was  _easy_ , though."

 _"No, it was hard and you can fight me on this."_ Alya's strained response came through the phone. A soft breeze fluttered in from the open skylight in Marinette's room, sending minuscule jolts of frigidity through her body. 

"Alya, I'm not fighting you." She handed Tikki a cookie, who shuffled to her nest to turn in for the night. "What did you get for it, anyway?" The ravenette enquired. She sat up straighter in her pink desk chair, bringing her knees up to her chest and wedging her phone between her ear and shoulder. 

 _"Wait, lemme check."_  The crisp sound of paper turning came through the receiver.  _"_ _A. 47. You?"_

Marinette flipped her page to the question, running her finger down the side of the paper. "It was C, Alya. 53. Seriously, Al, you gotta pay attention in class."

 _"Whatever. You know I'm not good at math. Plus, I'm tired. Can't we take a breaaaak?"_ She stretched the last syllable for emphasis, but it wouldn't work on Marinette.

"We just started. Like 5 minutes ago." She informed the redhead flatly, while tapping her pencil rhythmically on the desktop. 

 _"Exactly, it's been forever."_  Alya yawned, and when she spoke again, it was through a much alerter tone. " _Now, what was all that in lunch about? What's up with you and Mr. Noir, hmm?"_  

 _Seriously, Alya? Seriously? Just let it go, already._ " _God,_ Alya—"

 _"Not God, just plain, old Alya. Although, I've been told the resemblance is startling."_ She retorted swiftly, orchestrating a moment of awkward silence afterwards.  _"Anyways, continue."_

"There's  _nothing_  going on between us." Marinette finished with an innocent tone, closing her textbooks mindlessly. "We just know each other."

_"Don't give me that. I'm your best friend. You can tell me anything. I won't judge you."_

"I know that very well, Alya _-why-did-you-eat-my-cookie-you're-so-fat-_ Césaire," Marinette imitated her friend's voice in the best possible way. "But I'm telling you, there's  _nothing going on between me and Chat Noir._ "  _Not yet, I_   _think_ ,She added inwardly. 

Suddenly, a loud thud came from her loft, followed by an even louder, "And I thought what we had was  _special_ , Princess." Marinette gasped and groaned at once, if that was human possible, and her phone slipped from her fingers, landing in her lap. A gentle ruffle of pillows and blankets later, the Stygian wink of the unmistakable suit was visible.

 _"What was that, girl? Is everything okay?"_ Alya's voice, now louder due to being on the speaker, was slightly panicked. 

The black glint of leather rolled off of Chat's suit, as he slowly slinked down the ladder, his trademark grin etched onto his features. Marinette's eyes trailed his (rather good-looking) figure with wide eyes. She fumbled with her phone, bringing it up to her ear slowly, eyes never leaving Chat, who went ahead and made himself comfortable on her chaise lounge. 

"Yeah, everything's f-fine. I'll call you later, okay?" She replied, 

 _"Wait, girl, what about_   _homework—"_

"Okay, great, goodnightseeyoutomorrow _bye._ " Marinette punched the 'End Call' button on her phone, focusing her critical, dubious stare on the superhero stretched out on her lounge. "What are you  _doing_ here?" She hissed, ignoring the heat that flew upto her face.

Chat Noir  _tsk_ ed, shaking a finger scoldingly in her direction. He sat up straight, his belt-tail curling around his leg. "Is that how you talk to a superhero who risks their life for you on a daily basis?" He was lucky Marinette liked him, barely enough to  _not_ slap that smug smile off his pretty face, or maybe  _kiss_ —

_No._

"Maybe not." She intoned, narrowing her eyes. "But that is  _exactly_ how I treat a mangy stray who broke into my room." She turned back to her homework, flipping her books open and grabbing her pencil.

As much as she wanted to distract herself from the super-hot boy who sat in her room, nothing would turn her hyperaware senses off. Marinette read the questions over and over but nothing seemed to sink in. Every muscle in her body twitched with tension, every thew in her face was taught with the motive of  _not blushing_ , because  _hoooohhh my_ _goddd, he's in my rooooom._

"My a _paw_ logies, Princess. But this mangy stray needed some company." He grinned childly. "And what's better than the companionship of a fair princess?"

Marinette flushed weakly, but kept her head ducked. "Fine. What do you want?" 

"Just your  _paw_ sivitely amazing presence." He picked his claws and leaned his chin on a fist, flaunting interest. "So tell me, what's  _my Princess_  been up to? How's school?"

This was absolutely too much for Marinette. Because how could he be so charming and expect her to be cool? How could he demand calmness if all he needed was her company? How  _dare he_ anticipate a collected Marinette when he called her his? Her fingers trembled with strain and rigidity. She was Ladybug for the sake of Paris! And he was just her partner! He couldn't do this to her. No! Chat was  _not_ allowed to rampage into her perfectly fine love life and whip it into a frenzy. 

Homework now out of question, she set her pencil down and swivelled her chair to face him. Him. Chat Noir. Chat, who sported a skin-tight leather suit. Chat, who desired only her attention, when he had so much more. Chat, who lay sprawled over her chaise, with his hands under his head, and one foot pulled up. He faced her expectantly.

"S-school's fine. It's just the people that are so  _confusing._ " Marinette had some strange urge to just vent out everything to him, and somehow, she felt that he would understand. Because Chat was just that, the understanding friend and partner who would let you articulate all your problems and he would never judge you for them. Never turn his head in disgust. Just be there to help you through them and give you the most amazing advice possible.

He cocked an eyebrow. "How so?" 

It didn't matter. He didn't even probably care. Maybe about Ladybug. Not about  _Marinette_ , though. She turned around to face her wall, her back onto him. "Forget it. It doesn't matter...you wouldn't care." She muttered under her breath. She expected him to just drop it, call it a night and head home. 

She didn't expect the unexpected. She didn't hear the footsteps. She wasn't prepared for the warm touch of his clawed hand on her shoulder. She didn't think that what he said next was real.

"Hey, I care. About you. Tell me." He plopped down on her rug, that waiting expression back on. She sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back in thought.  _Just tell him._  

She exhaled deeply before saying, "Chat, how do you tell if someone's interested? Like, how do you know if a guy who you've been spending an eternity pining after feels the same about you?"

Marinette opened her eyes to see Chat's face contorted into an expression of hurt. Like he'd just witnessed the death of a puppy. Or stubbed his toe. Or listened to Justin Beiber's 'Baby' on a 10 hour loop. But as soon as it was there, it was gone. Like a flash of lightning. He blinked himself back to reality and smiled stiffly at her. 

"Who's the lucky guy?" He whispered it, with so much emotion, yet so apathetically. "What's he like?"

Marinette's eyes flitted to the pictures on her wall, and then, back to him. He twitched suddenly, his expression unreadable. She gazed at her tangled fingers in her lap. "He's unbelievably sweet. He's smart. He's handsome," She smiled, remembering the moment her senses had spasmed and she had fallen, so  _very_ hard. "But that's not what made me fall in love with him. He's just so  _perfect_  in every way."

Her partner smiled that coy smile. "Congrats, Princess." His eyes gleamed with some sort of mischief and Marinette could see the gears turning in his head. It was quite the shift from his agonised conveyance. 

She groaned. "That's the thing, though. Idon't know if  _he_ likes  _me back_ —"

"Why wouldn't he?" He said it simply, like it was obvious. Like it was a fact staring her in the face. 

Marinette laughed humourlessly. " _Look_  at me, Chat."

"I am."

He said it with so much faith and truth that it nearly knocked her off the chair. He stared right into the depths of her eyes, sifting through the myriad of colors. For a moment, nothing else mattered. For a moment, she just wanted to dive into his arms and stay there forever. For a moment, she just wanted to be  _his_ , nothing more, nothing less. But that couldn't happen. No matter how much she wanted it to, no matter how much she wanted to be  _wanted_ , it refused to happen.

She smiled sadly. "Then you get what I mean when I say I'm not enough." Marinette bit the side of her cheek, looking away. "I mean, he acts interested, and I think he is—I  _hope_ he is, but it's so hard to tell."

Chat licked his lips. He honestly looked like he was about to laugh. Instead, he looked up at her, eyes sincere. "Can I ask you a question, Princess?"

Marinette nodded. Chat didn't answer right away, just held her gaze for an antagonising minute. Then he turned his head to her desk walls, where Adrien's pictures displayed his beautiful face and Marinette sucked in a sharp breath at the action. He jerked his chin up at their general direction. She paled.

"Is that him?"

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

He didn't have the shield of an excuse to hide behind this time. 

There was no sort of explanation or justification he had to offer this once. Adrien just had to see her. Every minute that passed, every second away from her after the realisation that his two loves were one, was a year of pain. He was floundering in a sea of dissatisfaction and Marinette was his life boat. He was panting after a run of discontent and she was his breath of fresh air. He was flailing in a pit of displeasure and she was the rope that yanked him to safety. 

Adrien didn't just like her, he  _loved_ her. He needed her in every way. She was the first and last thought of every day. She was the saviour in his nightmares. She was the fairy in his daydreams. She was his everything. And he needed her to know that. He needed her to know that he was nothing without her. He needed her to know that every fibre of his being tingled with love every time she crossed his mind. He needed her to know that every cell in his body ached with longing when she wasn't with him. 

Marinette had been a relentless arrow to his bullseye, and the moment it's sharp tip touched his weak heart, he had fallen. Fallen harder than he ever thought fathomable. And even though part of him sobbed with guilt over his betrayal of Ladybug, he couldn't help it. So when the news of them being the same person assaulted his brain, it was like a cut in the arm. Similarities bled profusely from the wound and there was nothing to stop the flow of information. But it didn't hurt. It never could. It vibrated with an excited hum. It pulsed with an exuberant buzz. It quivered with an exhilarated purr. It never brought him discomfort, though.

But hearing her insist that she and his superhero persona had  _nothing_ had jabbed at the injury with a hot iron poker. Listening to her off-hand confession to the man she adored had sizzled the lesion with such ferocity that it brought tears to his eyes in mercy. Yet his cat-like reflexes catching her eyes flit to the picture— _pictures_ of her love,  _him_ , as she showered him with compliments, had bandaged the laceration with such tenderness and care that he forgot it even existed. It made him want to scoop her up into his arms and twirl her around in happiness, assailing her with kisses and just  _love._

And yet, he stayed still. He sat, motionless, in front of Marinette, just watching her gush about how she wasn't worth it. About how she wasn't enough. About how he may have been  _interested_. 

 _How_?  _How_ could he just tell her that he wasn't just  _fascinated_ , but that he  _loved_  her? That every hair on his head whirred with infatuation. That every little bit of time spent away from her was a bullet to his head. That every moment spent with her was a thousand kisses peppered to his face.

He nodded to the pictures of him on her wall. "Is that him?"

The way her face flushed a nervous red and her eyes widened substantially was an answer enough. He wanted to laugh. Correction—he  _did_ laugh. It started with giggles, moving to chuckling, but it wasn't long before a dam burst and he was rolling on the floor with tears pricking his eyes. 

Her face had taken on a scowl, with her pretty eyes thinned into a glare. "That's not funny."

Chat pushed himself up into a sitting position, wiping at the seeds of a happy tear. "Sorry, Princess, but I find it hilarious."

"It's not funny." She repeated, arms crossing over her chest in annoyance.

Chat snickered again. "It really is. You see, I know this Agreste kid and—"

Marinette's eyes widened yet again, this time in plea. "You can't tell him! He'll never  _look_  at me again."

"It's okay, I won't tell him." He giggled once more, and curtain of mischief veiled his green eyes. "But  _you_  will."

Marinette sputtered, "What? No! I can't tell him! What if he doesn't like me back? What do I even say? 'Hey Adrien, I like you. We should go out and hold hands and stuff.'"

Chat's eyes enlarged for a second at the similarity of her words, but it wasn't soon replaced by a look of pure I'm-not-having-it. "Look, Princess, I told you I know him, and I'm willing to bet that he likes you, too. Just... tell him how you feel."

She frowned sadly, her eyes searching. "I-I can't, Chat. I don't wanna lose the friendship we have. It's enough just being able to  _see_  him everyday."

Now, Adrien was a pretty smart kid. His lovely golden head held a lot of knowledge, all of which was never obliterated, never consigned to oblivion. But in that moment, he forgot how to breath. Every centimetre of his skin stung with the need of just  _telling_ her. Just letting her know that he felt the same way. That her heart wasn't the only one that combusted every moment that they were together. 

"I-you won't." He offered her a small smile. "Don't you trust me, Princess?"

She rolled her eyes, and another shudder convulsed his body at the obvious resemblance to her superhero self. "Do you really want me to answer that,  _Chaton_?"

He grinned cheekily at the nickname. "Tell you what." He leapt onto his feet, circling her thoughtfully. "Why don't we make a deal? You tell him—"

Marinette opened her mouth to protest, but Chat shut her off with an 'ub-bup-bup' and proceeded with his bargain. "If he feels the way I tell you he does, then you have to supply me with 2 of your  _sinfully delicious_ chocolate-chip cookies everyday for the rest of the month."

"And if he doesn't?" She countered, looking up at him with worried blue eyes. 

"Then you get to tell me that you told me so." 

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

4 days.

_4 days._

It had been 4 days since she'd agreed to that  _stupid_  deal. 4 days since she'd told Chat Noir that she would be able to tell the love of her life that she loved him. One of them, anyway. 4 days since she'd decided that she had to stop.

Stop liking Chat. Stop cherishing the priceless gleam in his beautiful peridot eyes. Stop adoring the way his grin stretched wider on one side of his face. Stop treasuring his sunny blonde hair that was always mussed up. Stop _loving_  him _._  

Clearly, she was not doing well.

Because,  _goddamnit_ , it was so  _hard_. There was no way her heart rate  _wouldn't_ spike every time she saw him. There was no way her cheeks  _wouldn't_ gush with color every time he stepped too near. There was absolutely  _no chance_ that her knees wouldn't make jelly and wobble every time she saw his haughty smirk. It was just so  _hard._ Especially since her role as the saviour of Paris required her to be pretty physically... _close_  with him. And the fact that his arm always found a way to her waist didn't help the situation any more.

But on the other hand, Marinette was kinda glad. Although her heart never failed to do somersaults every time she saw Adrien, she had forgotten how desperately she needed to tell him about her feelings. She had drifted into a period of simple friendship and it was so comfortable, and  _okay_ that she didn't want it to end. She didn't want to tarnish the easy relationship they shared. She didn't want to hurt the pleasant connection between the two of them. And although the idea of a confession always haunted at the back of her mind, it was never carried out, and so, they never got any further. 

The pact with Chat made her realise how much she yearned for something more. And even though she might have to risk all that she had, it needed to happen. One of the worst things about life was the regret. Marinette never wanted to look back on her school days and lament about how he had been so close.  _They_ had been so  _close_. Close to becoming something. Close to  _having_ something. But if it didn't happen, her cowardice would be at fault, and she would never be able to live with herself. 

Besides, if he did requite her intense sentiments, well, nothing wrong with that, right? 

But then, there was Chat.  _Chat._

No. He would have to take a backseat. 

It was just that, if Adrien  _did_ reject her, she would set fire to any possible relationship with Chat, at least as Marinette. After all, she couldn't exactly walk up to Chat and tell him, 'Hey, I was just rejected by  _one_  of the guys I'm totally in love with. Turns out, you're Mr. Lucky Guy Number 2. Wanna go out with me?'

Yeah,  _no_.

It was a Friday, lunch, and Marinette was determined to profess her love to Adrien. 

It had been a strange week. The guy had always been on edge, never fiery, but  _anxious_. Eager, agog and expectant. Every time his blonde head whirled to her, his eyes seemed to be gripping the brim of his seat, waiting to hear something, scouring her eyes and searching her face. It was  _annoying._

Class had just ended, the distinct whistle of the bell ringing through the corridors. Marinette had already informed Alya of her plan, and the bespectacled girl had devised a fool-proof plan to make sure Nino didn't ruin what they called the Confession™. She had pulled him into the library, muttering about some help with her assignment. Adrien had been left in their backwash, staring, puzzled, after them. 

He stood tall by his desk, stowing his books slowly into his bag. Marinette caught the sideways glance hisvirescent eyes threw her, the various shades of green shuffling with anticipation. This was it. It  _had_ to be. Now or never. She stood next to her desk, a step above him, a thumb nervously shoved under the shoulder strap of her bag. It was thankfully a day where Chloe was employed elsewhere, this time due to a retest, so the coast was officially clear. All around them, students shambled off to their business, and it was a matter of seconds before the two were left alone in the room. The tension in the air was enough to shatter a brick.

And due to this tension, they both spoke at the same time. 

"Hey—"

"I was—"

Adrien shook his head self-consciously, "Sorry." He gestured for Marinette to speak, busying a hand at the back of his neck.

She took a deep breath, stilling her oscillating nerves, and locking her agitated peepers onto his awaiting ones. "I was wondering if I could...uh, have a-a moment with you?"

He nodded excitedly. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I mean yes." Adrien smiled sheepishly.

It was oddly comforting to watching him stumble over his words; like she wasn't alone in her distress. But  _how_?  _How_ did she even  _begin_ to explain that every part of her _adored_  him. That the thought of him occupied every waking second that ticked by. That there was  _no way_ she couldn't soar at the mention of him. That the word 'love' could never do justice to her feelings towards him. That she would willingly sacrifice her heart and soul if it meant his affection in return.

And yet, when she opened her mouth, the words just flowed out. More like, tumbled out. 

"Adrien, I don't know how much this friendship matters to you, but it means the world to me." She spoke, hushed, but loud enough for him to hear. His brows creased ever so slightly, as if to let her know that he felt the same way, and his mouth stretched into the smallest smile, accompanied by a moderate flush. His eyes lidded somewhat, indicating sympathy and... _pride_?

Marinette pulled her head to the left, breaking away from his gaze. She slowly moistened her lips before continuing, "And I would never want to do anything to hurt it. Never."

Adrien bobbed his head softly, to show her that he understood. He waited for her to continue, but never rushed her. 

She kept her head lowered, though and proceeded, her voice dangerously close to a whisper. "But...I-I think it's important that you knew how I felt. Truly...felt. And it's okay if you don't feel the same, heh." She nudged her lower lip with her incisor, and brought her head to meet his regard. "But, I...I love you, Adrien. More than you'd imagine." 

Marinette waited for a splash of pity to strike his expression. For a disgusted scowl to pull his mouth. For a rejection. But it never came.

What did, however, was a grin. An achingly familiar one. It broke onto Adrien's face with a deep exhale that she didn't realise he was holding. His eyes gleamed with love. His cheeks pinked with a deep blush. But he slowly stepped closer to her, snaking one arm to her waist, the other coming up to cup her cheek, tipping her chin upwards to him. 

Marinette didn't realise what was happening until his lips were on hers.

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

The kiss was hesitant at first, asking.

But at the same time, it was a stream of words. A gush of unspoken 'I love you's. A cascade of mute revelations. A waterfall of tacit declarations. A torrent of silent avowals. 

After a squeak of surprise, Marinette responded with such fervour, it made Adrien's knees weak. It was a chaste kiss, but it held so many promises, so much commitment. The kiss was a flame that they cradled between their lips, each breath adding fuel to the fire, each gasp shooting sparks into the air around them. 

Her lips were soft, and sugary,  _oh so_ sweet. They were coated with the treacly taste of vanilla, and the thought of them made him hungry. Marinette's hands wound their way to Adrien's neck, and her fingers leisurely slipped into his hair, pushing him towards her and eradicating any remaining distance between the two. 

The kiss, from Adrien's side, was a conveyance of his reciprocation. Of his sheer infatuation with the idea of her. He put everything into it, from the gratification that unfurled in his chest at her confession, to the elation for the future of them. 

When they finally parted, it was due to the need of air. Marinette's hands fell from his neck, caressing his chest as they descended. Her eyes looked up at him, unsure but excited. Blood had rushed to her lips, painting them a delicious red, and Adrien wanted nothing more that to just plunge into another kiss.

Instead, he leaned into her ear. Both hands holding her by the waist, he leered wildly and whispered, "I believe you owe me two of those  _sinfully delicious_ cookies, Bugaboo."

Instantly, he felt her stiffen. Marinette's shoulders tensed into an uncharacteristic hunch, and Adrien felt a sharp exhale on his cheek. He stepped back, unwinding his arms from their hold and she quickly jumped from his embrace. He expected her to be ecstatic. To scream, "It's you!" and lunge back into him. To laugh and kiss him and call him hers.

What he  _didn't_ expect, was the horrified expression plastered to her face, with her nostrils flared in anger, her eyes narrowed into a venomous glare and her mouth ajar in disbelief. Adrien winced at the sight, drawing back slightly.  _This_ was not how his plan was supposed to go.  _This_ was not she was supposed to retaliate. He was stunned silent by her reaction.

" _Chat._ " Marinette hissed it, but she might as well have stabbed his heart with a fork. The word radiated so much disappointment, so much _regret_  and it hung between them like a curtain of despair. "You _knew_?!" 

Averting her icy gaze, he meekly shook his head in reply. "Marinette—"

She suddenly gasped. "And...I...you, the-the pictures." Her lip curled in disgust. "I gushed on about how much I loved you and you just  _stood there_." Tears blanketed her eyes, threatening to fall.

"Mari, I—"

Her voice was bitterly quiet when it came, eyes widening in realisation. "So that was it, huh? That whole show with the flowers." Filled with so much sadness. So much sorrow. "Just because I was her. Ladybug." When he looked back at her, glistening trails of water streaked her cheeks. 

"No, Mari, please," Adrien begged, tears blurring his vision. "It's not that."

Her lip trembled. "No, I get it. Why love someone who's real, when you can have someone who's perfect."

Adrien's heart thumped, suffocatingly fast, in his chest, in his head, in his fingers. His head shot up to her gape, his voice cracking with every word. "You know that's not true." 

Fixing her stare to the ground, her eyes puffed with grief, Marinette spat, "Then,  _what_ is, Adrien?"

"That I love _you_ , Marinette!" He screamed, fists clenching with the resolution to not cry. 

There a pause of silence, when neither spoke the words they wanted to say. When neither said what needed to be said. When neither vocalised what was meant to be heard. It was Marinette's voice that broke the hush, quiet and void of any feeling. "And you think that I don't love _you_ , Adrien?'

"I _know_ you do, Mari, but then, what's _wrong_?  _Why_ can't you be happy with me?" He was frustrated now, every word laced with the pain he didn't know he felt until now.

"Because you _knew_ how much this meant to me! You  _knew_ , and you _still_ watched me pine after you! You _pushed_ me to spill all my secrets while you waited for _me_ to confess." She shook with anger, teardrops falling from her face. "You _constantly_ asked me to put myself out there, when all _you've_ done is wait and watch me struggle with my feelings. How is that  _fair_?!"

Adrien stared at her, lost for words, because everything she'd said was true.  _How_ was that fair? To her. To her feelings. To everything. But he couldn't let her go. Even though he was drowning under the weight of his emotions, he clung onto her. Even though his veins thudded with agony, he held onto his love. Even though every part of him screamed for forgiveness, he knew he had to work for it. 

"Mari,  _please_." He impetrated. Adrien's eyes ached with dehydration due to the excessive lack of water, but it was nothing compared to the torture his heart was putting him through.

"I can't _do_ this, Adrien." Marinette pleaded, staring one last time, into his eyes, into his soul and into the very foundation of his being. " _Please_."

She wound her way around him, snatched up her bag, and giving him one agonising look, she walked away. Her sniffles and sobs were audible through the walls, but Adrien was rooted to the spot, his glue being the shame and torment inside.  _He_ had done this.  _He_ was to blame.  _He_ was the reason that his everything was shattered into a million pieces. Because of  _his_ stupid mistake. 

The one girl who had managed to steal his heart had broken it, and he was left to pick up the glassy shards by himself, piecing together his severed life, one by one. But those fragments were sharp, and if he wasn't heedful, he would hurt himself, again. He would bring himself the worst possible type of anguish there was, again. And it would all be his fault.

Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment, pleeeeaaaaaseeee! I could seriously use some talking rn. BTW, was this chapter too busy? I feel like it was. Sorry.
> 
> Some things I need feedback on (it would be great if you could leave me a comment):  
> a) The Confession™: Was that okay? Realistic enough?  
> b) The Kiss™: Look, peeps, I never kissed anyone, so this is a bit new. Was it alright? I didn't wanna make it too pg with details and hand movements but otherwise?  
> c) The Fight™: Angsty enough? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> im desperate if you cant tell. :D  
> cookie out.


	5. Where Truths Are Spoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, misunderstandings are resolved, hearts are mended and DJWifi happen (slightly).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i think u guys hate me now for the last chapter.  
> oh whale.
> 
> Also, I just re-read my first chapter, and can I say wHO WrOtE ThAt?! Like yuck. There is such a marginal difference of quality between then and now, don't you think? It's great to see how much progress there's been from the beginning. Thank you all for sticking with me! :D
> 
> And now the awaited chappie.

An actual rift in her heart would have been less painful that the emotional _storm_ that raged on inside her. 

It had been 2 weeks. _2 weeks_. Precisely 332 hours, 24 minutes and 19 seconds since her life had been whipped into an unbearable frenzy of feelings and every bit of power that grounded her had been stripped from her grasp. Marinette was hurtling towards the unwanted pastures of regret, million miles a minute. Externally? She was healthy. Externally? She was happy. Externally? She was _fine_. Internally? She was dying, for the lack of a better term, and it  _sucked._

At the time, she had sped her way to the bakery, dodging the flurry of questions that bombarded her, from Alya and Nino. She had zoomed her way into her bedroom, throwing the hatch-like door down with so much force, the sound had resonated throughout the little house, luckily dispersed by the chatter of the lunch rush below. But most remorseful of all, she had left _him_ standing there, the only thing to comfort him being the thick silence in the air. 

She had slumped against her chaise, waves of sobs wracking her tiny frame. Tears of shame had flown so freely. Droplets of insecurities had dripped so brazenly. Beads of betrayal had drizzled so _explicitly_. She had cried like there was no end. Wept like a child. Wailed like it was a trend.

And when she had trudged back in through the doors of her class, her breath had slipped out from her lungs. Her heart had risen to her mouth. Her ears had clammed up, casting the teacher's protests of tardiness on the disregarding walls around them. Her legs had slowly carried her to her seat, eyes fixated on the sunken boy who mirrored her anxious look. Adrien's lip had so quivered harshly it was _blurry_ to look at and he had swept his head to the side, refusing to meet her gaze. His searching eyes puffed with redness, serving as quite the antonym to his usual model self.

Needless to say, the day had  _dragged_. 

The worst thing about the whole situation was that  _she_ was responsible for it. Mostly, anyways. Marinette  _wanted_ to be elated. She  _wanted_ to overlook the little details that nagged at her. She  _wanted_ to be with him and be  _happy_. But she  _couldn't_. Her mind declined any attempts of positivity. Her brain rejected any endeavours of optimism. Her heart repudiated any efforts of cheer. She just  _couldn't_ neglect the black splashes in a sea of white, no matter how hard she tried. 

And every time her subconscious unhelpfully supplied an image of their kiss, her brain stopped. It was both a dizzying high, and an unforgiving slap of reality, when she realised what had happened. But of the library of feelings that had toppled onto her, there was only one that she checked out.

And that was _shame_.

Every tendon in her body burned with dishonour. Every muscle flamed with guilt. Every vein scorched with liability. Because, while a part of her anger had been due to Adrien's dishonesty and wrongdoing, the majority was a result of her surprise and irresponsibility. From the start, it had been  _Marinette's_ secret to protect. To ensureconfidentiality of. To safe guard. To look after. How had she let something so _important_ slip? How could she have been so reckless? So _careless_? 

She  _hated_ being at the mercy of others.  _Despised_ being the puppet to their show.  _Abhorred_ being thrown around at another's grace. And Adrien had done just that. He'd watched her being tossed with the challenge of love and played along with it. He had been the whisk that had mixed her emotions into a confusing batter. As for the icing, he loved  _Ladybug._ Not  _Marinette_. Which was oddly understandable. 

_ Why love someone who's real, when you can have someone who's perfect? _

She wasn't arguing when she'd said that. Just miserably agreeing. Yet, somehow, it didn't pain her as much as she thought it would. She always felt like there was a chunk of the story that she was missing. And as big as the thirst for the truth was, her fears with bigger. He had fallen for one part of her. The part with a cheerful laugh, smart ideas and a fearless disposition. Not the one with a klutzy demeanour, awkward conversations and busy schedule. And that was just  _not fair_. Because she had fought to gain his affections from both sides, only to be told that  _both_ loved a mask, not a person. And yet,  _it didn't hurt that bad_. 

Because  _she_ was the one who had made this decision. That wretched cat had opened her eyes, but _she_ was the reason they were watering with unshed tears now. She could've ignored his delicious offer; been more heedful of their consequences, but  _no._ Her careless little heart had disregarded any cries of warning and caution from her brain and gone ahead with the little endeavour. So, really, she was just as much to blame as him. Maybe even a little more. 

Sure, there was the occasional  _torment_ that brewed up inside her. Of course, that and the strange ache in her fingers to thread them through his. As well as the need to pull him close and bury her nose in his chest. _And_ the longing urge to push him against the closest wall and kiss him senseless, conveying the apologies she would never have the guts to  _say_.

Clearly, she wasn't suffering alone. Every stolen glance at Adrien had been reflected right back her. Eyes filled with apology. Cheeks flushed with abashment. Lips pooched in plea. Twice, she had caught him sniffling, with tears rimming his lenses. Twice, her eyes had imitated the action. Twice, her heart had  _broken_ at the sight. Twice, she had found an instance to  _hate_ herself.

Not a day had passed that her looming regret hadn't propelled her legs to walk the detoured route from near his house. Not a day had passed that her eyes hadn't trailed his slumped figure drag himself to the car. Not a day had passed that she hadn't torn her face away from the sight, and buzzed away to school, only to have the feelings dumped on her all over again.

But Marinette just fricking  _couldn't._ She wasn't ready to face him again. She wasn't ready to fall again. She wasn't ready to  _grieve_ again. 

Pining after Adrien from a distance looked golden to her now. Even if they were never a  _thing_ or close to ever being one, neither had stung the other. Their relationship had remained untainted, unflawed and  _intact_. Watching him slowly respond to her feelings, with such intensity, had been something so new, and one question constantly tacked her brain.  _What now?_

Unpredictability. Uncertainty. Chanciness. The reins of their relationship had always been in her hands, since no one else was present in the chariot, but the moment he had appeared in the seat next to her, and grabbed the ropes, her world flipped. It was like Pandora's box all over again. Negativity was a newly discovered concept in her eyes, but slowly, the daunting realisation of _its_  negativityhad dawned on her. 

And it hurt. 

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

Was it  _bad_ when he said that this feeling was all too familiar? 

On one hand, he could at least  _pretend_ he knew how to handle it, whilst wallowing in the pathetic feelings that welled up inside him. On the other hand, he was reminded of how wretchedly inadequate he was, to his mother, to his father and to  _her_. How easily he could crack the relationship of glass that he shared with each.

 _God_ , the mention of Marinette's name gave Adrien heartache. His fingers tingled with the need to hold her hand, seeping away any warmth she exuded. His lips trembled with the exigency to kiss hers. His head spun with the obligation of nuzzling his face into her hair. 

He had never been jealous of Nathanaël, the guy practically looked like a fire hydrant, but with a (somewhat) clear view of Marinette's head from his seat, as opposed to her drilling stare, Adrien would've given anything to be in his place.  _Anything_ to salvage the shards of their relationship.  _Anything_ to hold her again.  _Anything_ to let him love her again.

Not that he ever stopped. He  _couldn't._ Her name was unbidden guest that forever ghosted his lips. Her touch was a coveted shiver that sent vibrations through his body. Her kiss was a fire that burned in his heart, never dying, much like his love. And yet, it was the  _one_ thing that he had managed to royally botch up. 

How hopeful he had been when he thought Marinette would be happy. How stupid he had been when he thought her face would light up with delight. How  _utterly foolish_ he had been when he thought she would never bring him pain. 

Her words had been worse than a knife to his head. Worse than sinking under the weight of the world. Worse than an experiment of his stomach. She could've slapped him. Stabbed him. Snatched his ring.  _Anything_. Whoever said words were a weapon sure as hell knew what they were talking about, 'cause they  _hurt_. 

If it weren't for the despair of the situation, Adrien would've have laughed. She thought he loved Ladybug  _only_. And since Marinette was Ladybug, naturally, he was in love with her. What she didn't know, however, was how every bit of his mind had tortured itself to no end on his split loves. How there was only one wish that screamed through his brain, day and night, and that was that the both of them turned out to be one. He stood on a island, surrounded by a chasm that always echoed one name. And that was hers.

Everyday, he would stop his car by the bakery. Everyday, he would peer inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of  _her_. Everyday, he would walk in failure to his seat, just to see  _her_ slumped above. 

She didn't know that, though.  _She didn't know!_ Every day that passed, he would try to find a thread of courage that could push him to talk to her. To explain himself. To let her know that he loved every part of her. But day after day, that thread thinned more and more, threatening to snap any minute, taking any hope of righting the travesty with it.  

At the time, Adrien had just helplessly watched her receding pigtails, bowed in misery. He had slowly sunk to the floor, horror washing over him as the actuality of the situation had come crashing down on him. It wasn't long before he had fled to the privacy of the bathroom, where he let out the flood of tears that he had been holding in for  _so long._ He'd stayed there for the entire period of lunch, unable to face his friends or the cold, _cruel_ world; hunched over on the lid of the toilet seat. 

A thin piece of tape had held him together for the longest time. Now, all signs of adhesiveness were lost, and he was falling apart, piece by piece, part by part. 

Nino had been the greatest support; just being there and understanding was all Adrien could ask for. The 'dude' had informed him that he was always there if Adrien wanted to ventilate, but  _there_ regardless. But he didn't find it fair that the one person that still cared about him, was left in the dark. Nino wasn't given all the details, but the outline had been stated. She told him. He messed up. She's mad. He's sad. 

Alya was clearly worried, too. Apparently, 'Adrienette' had been the _one_ ship that she had bet on happening, and Adrien was with her, but it was 'kinda, sorta, maybe falling apart now'.

 _No kidding_.  

But every time her presence graced his, Adrien's throat would close up. His eyes would be frozen open. His mouth would abandon any structure. His heart would beat erratically fast. And judging by the hurt that assaulted Marinette's face every time, he knew she felt the same. 

He knew he wasn't the only one that was dying without the other. 

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

"Just  _talk_ to him, Mari!" Alya pushed her glasses up, stealing a pastry from her friend. " _Please._ "

"If I hadn't figured that out already, Alya, do you think I would wait for him after every class?" Marinette inhaled slowly. "But I  _can't_."

"Marinette, you know that's not true. Can't you see? He's so pained—"

"I never wanted to hurt him." The ravenette interjected, her voice small, but forceful. She looked down at her lunch, eyebrows knitting together in guilt.

Alya clicked her tongue irritatedly. "I wasn't _done_. Me and Nino miss having the group together. But that's even not the point." Her voice softened. "Hey, look, I know it's not easy, it's not meant to be, but Mari, you can see it. He's sorry, for whatever he's done. I think you two need to have a talk."

"What if he's just disgusted by everything? What if—"

... 

"—it's just pity that you see across her face? What if she never wants to talk to me again, Nino?" Adrien sighed dejectedly. "What then?"

"Bro, I have the IQ of about a box of crayons, but I can tell that she needs you. We all can." Nino stated simply, poking his pasta with a fork. 

Adrien frowned. "'We'?"

Nino shrugged. "Me and Alya, man." He said. "Since we barely hang out in school, we meet up afterwards, mainly to discuss what to do with you dudes." 

"I-Nino. I'm sorry, you guys really don't have to do that." Nino held a hand up, silencing Adrien's doubts. 

"Nuh-uh, man. Guys before gals." He smiled easily, yet, with a hint of sadness. "Which is why it sucks to see you all—"

...

"—mopey. And sigh-ey." Alya concluded, chasing her pastry pieces with a spoon. 

"' _Sigh-ey_ '? Seriously?" Marinette snorted, despite herself. "I do not  _sigh_."

Alya shot her a flat look. "You  _do_. Like 37 times last class. It's annoying."

Marinette frowned. "You  _counted_?" She peeled a muffin liner away slowly, muttering, "Creep."

"Hey! I am a journalist, not a  _creep._ It's important for me to pay attention to the details." Alya corrected, licking the cream off her fingertips.

"And that's supposed to justify your  _creepiness_?" Marinette chuckled humourlessly. 

"Let's not _stray_ from the problem here." Alya crowed. "You need to  _talk_. Better now than never."

" _Alyaaaa_ , I can't. I'm a—"

... 

"—coward. There," Adrien stabbed a tomato with his fork, finishing off his salad for day. "I said it. I, Adrien Agreste, am a coward."

Nino groaned miserably. "And  _I_ , Nino Lahiffe, am taking none of your unjustified _excuses_."

"What do you expect me to do?—"

" _Talk_. If you seriously don't, I will  _make_ you, man." Nino shook Adrien's thin frame by his shoulders. "I will lock the two of you in a room and  _make_ you talk."

Adrien laughed dryly. "I seriously doubt you're gonna do that." He gently picked the claws off his shoulders, releasing himself from the death-grip. 

"Maybe not." Nino smiled coyly. "But Alya will." 

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

The needy screeches could be heard a corridor away. 

Halfway through lunch, students wandered around the building. Wrappers flapped in the breeze. Whispers filled the hallways. Teachers rejoiced their meek minutes of liberation.

Alya dragged Marinette by the waist, not having much leverage on the petite girl, but enough to force her into the locker rooms, which was conveniently empty. The little designer groped at whatever she found, hoping it could keep her from the unfortunate fate that awaited her. The doorframe, the cupboards, the benches, the floor. It didn't work. 

"But, Alyaaaaaa," She bawled. "I don't _need_ my math textbook for art." 

"I don't care. _I_ need it." The bespectacled girl planted Marinette on ground, looking around, just as an audible click of the door was heard. A moment later, the two girls turned to see Adrien emerge from the boys bathroom, driven forward by Nino. The correct term to describe his expression would be 'a deer caught in the headlights'. 

"Nino, what's happ— _Oh_." Adrien's eyes widened, shifting from each person in the room, much like everyone else, before landing on Marinette's. A complete beat of comprehending silence passed before every teenager made a bolt for the door. It was utter chaos. Alya shoved Marinette violently aside, wrenching the door agape and slipping outside. Nino did much the same, slinking out when Adrien opened the entryway for himself. The portal were yanked shut instantaneously, followed by a turn of the lock that was only accessible from the outside. 

A muffled shuffling later, " _Talk!_ " was yelled from the outside. Adrien turned to Marinette, who squeezed her eyes shut, trapping her bottom lip with her teeth, still facing the closed door. Her fingers slowly curled into a fist, and it wasn't long before her entire body went rigid with tension.

Adrien cleared his throat. "Hey." The word was slathered with awkwardness, but it was a start. His hand reached up to rub at his neck, before he thought otherwise and jammed it into his pockets. 

Marinette turned, setting her azure eyes on his peridot ones, both coated with fear and pain. " _Hi_." Another period of soundlessness followed, overflowing with discomfort and self-consciousness.

" _I don't hear talking!_ " Another muffled push came, shaking both teens out of the tranquility. The two instinctively moved away from the exit, standing adjacent to the rows of lockers and in front of the benches. Gulps, blinks and sniffs ensued. Silence, too. Before—

"I'm sorry—"

"Sorry—"

Marinette winced in apology, and gestured for him to speak first. Adrien's eyes searched the floor, as if he were raking it for the scattered words that littered his mind, before fixating them into a stare that reached the depths of Marinette's being. "I miss you, Mari."

She melted, right there, into a puddle of words. Every cell in her body combusted with elation, scurried back together and exploded all over again. "Adrien. I'm sorr-I was wrong. I-shouldn't. I shouldn't have—" 

"No, Mari." He whisper-asserted it, shaking his head. " _I_ shouldn't have done that to you."

"And _I_ should've let you explain." She scanned his face, wincing at herself. "There's something I'm missing, aren't I?"

Adrien's gaze returned to the ground. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but nothing came out. Marinette's flame of hope was slowly diminishing, flickering in the winds of silence. "Mari, I-I-you were... I," He took a deep breath in, focusing his sight on the girl in front of him. "I loved you from the start. As Ladybug, at first, and then, as...well,  _you_. I'm sorry if that's not how it came across. But I really, _really_  did."

"Adrien, I—"

But he persisted. "And that day, with the flowers and the clothes, it was because I wanted you to love me back, as Marinette. When you...when you told my joke, I knew. Mari, I promise I didn't try to find out, I just  _did_. I never wanted to hurt you, Mari, I swear. You're everything to me." A tear slipped past his guards, and a hand quickly rose to wipe it. "Shit, sorry. I didn't, Mari, I'm  _sorry_." 

"I know. I know, you wouldn't do it on purpose. Adrien—"

"Exactly, Marinette, I never wanted to hurt you." Adrien looked down, staring at his hands. "I'm  _sorry_."

Marinette grimaced. " _I_ should be the one that's sorry. I was the one that caused this whole thing. My stupid emotions. You-I loved you for the longest time, as-as Adrien. That's why I couldn't—"

"Like Chat? I get it." He laughed, but it was void of any negativity, purely innocent. His face kept a smile as a souvenir from the chuckle; one that crinkled his eyes slightly and pulled his cheeks in the most beautiful way.

"Yeah, and then, when I did, like Chat, I mean... it was so confusing." She looked away. "Then, this happened. Because of me. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have-I should...I should have  _listened_."

"And I should've  _told you_."

"Adrien, don't try to take the blame for this; it's all on me."

"Mari, please, I thought I was doing it right, pushing you to confess. It's  _my_ fault."

"But if I'd just  _listened_ —"

"No, if I'd  _explained_."

"You couldn't  _possibly_ if I just suddenly go ballistic on you." 

"That  _is_ true, heh."

" _Adrien_." She swatted his arm playfully. "You make it so hard to apologise."

"Sorry. But you've got to admit: what I did  _was_ wrong."

"Okay, fine! But it was mainly me."

Adrien stepped closer, taking hold of Marinette's hands. He brought one up to his lips, just barely grazing her knuckles, but it was enough to send jolts of electricity shooting through her body, something she had missed for so long. "I'm equally to blame, My Lady. Please." Marinette's face split into a small smile, just enough to let him know that they were okay. As okay as they could get. As okay as they wanted to be. 

He pulled her closer, mere inches separating them. Adrien leaned down, and she stretched upwards. Adrien rested his forehead on hers, humming against her nose, expressing every apology that he hadn't said. She did the same, forgiving every wrong and seeking every sorry she hadn't stated. Close enough to feel each other's breath, but far enough to speak. Their eyes fluttered shut, drinking in the moment, and just  _being there_. 

"I love you." 

It was a faint whisper from Marinette's end. As soft as the touch of a feather, but as powerful as a an army of men. He missed her. She missed him. They missed being  _them._ As physically separate as they may be, they were still two halves of a whole, and nothing could prove that otherwise. No amount of scientific theories could convince them that destiny hadn't brutally kept them apart from each other. Until now. 

Even if they were two bodies, their hearts beat as one. Even if their lives run individually, their smiles stretched as one. Even if their worlds spun on different axes, their _souls_ loved as _one_. 

"I love you, too." 

Millimetre by millimetre, breath by breath, their faces closed in. Honestly, if they were any slower, they would've been going backwards. Adrien's hand raised to hold Marinette's chin, tipping it upwards to him. She cupped his neck with both her hands, pulling him down to her. When their lips finally touched, a fountain of sparks spiralled into the air around them. The kiss, although echoing apologies and love, was sloppy in comparison to the last. It was desperate, needy and hungry, lacking form, but communicating so much adoration and  _love_. 

They smushed their lips together, smiling and giggling in the intervals, because there was just no way to express the _utter joy_ that bubbled inside them at the rectification. It was a sorry without words. An apology without any declarations. An  _amende honourable_ without comments. If the world stopped right now, it wouldn't matter; they had each other, and that's _all_ that made a difference. Hitler could be resurrected. World War III could be set in motion. The zombie apocalypse could be taking place  _right now_.

 _But none of it would matter._ Because all the two dorks needed was each other. No gravity. No air. No  _nothing_. 

And they were enough.

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

"No need to thank us. I know, I'm amazing."

"That's the _fifth_ time today, Al." Marinette shifted under Adrien's arm. "We get it."

The redhead gasped exaggeratedly. "You  _counted_?! Creep."

"As hilarious as this little exchange is, lemme inform you, Alya, that you didn't do all that much." Adrien addressed, placing a soft peck on Marinette's head.

Nino shuffled forward in his seat, setting down his phone. "Well, _excuse you_! We did a _lot_. If we hadn't gotten you two dudes locked up in the locker rooms, you woulda never...er.. _._ " He gestured vaguely to the couple.

Marinette scanned the menu card, settling with a mango smoothie. "That _is_  true." She looked up at her boyfriend with a fond smile. "We owe our happiness to you, Césaire and Lahiffe."

"Don't give them all the credit, Princess." Adrien nuzzled the side of Marinette's forehead, pouting all the way, and throwing in a soft purr just for fun. 

Alya turned her head in mock disgust, not-so-subtly slapping Nino with her giant mane of red locks. "Ugh, when I signed up to get you two together, _this_ wasn't part of the plan. It's so _mushy_."

"I find them adorable. Don't you,  _Princess_?" Nino stuck his nose towards Alya, pasting on a lovesick expression that made Alya teasingly poke him away. 

"Gross." 

Adrien nibbled on a pizza crust, scattering dusty crumbs over his jacket. The faint jingles of the restaurant bell could be heard, accompanied with soft chatter. The tiny café emanated a sort of familial warmth, in addition to its heavenly aromas. Dishes of wonderful tastes and flavours wafted from table to table, never failing to bring a smile to the consumer. It was a peaceful kind of busy. A tranquil sort of rush. A serene bustle. It was a placid pond with the lazy ripples occasionally breaking the even surface. An ever-running field of grass with the gentle wind swaying the reeds. A never-ending shore of glistening sand with the waves lapping at the bank. 

Alya and Nino romanticised skittishly. Marinette sipped her smoothie adorably, half-heartedly completing her homework, Plagg and Tikki exchanging stories under the table. 

It was all worth it. Worth dealing with the hissy fit of rage, starring the one and only Chloé Bourgeois. Worth averting the public's mental explosion over the news of Adrien's not-so-single status. Worth ignoring the evident stares from their classmates at their gratuitous make-out. 

Because all he needed was the warmth of his Mari. All he wanted was the company of his Lady. All he desired was to be with  _her_. Nothing more, nothing less. All he ever wanted was to be _wanted_ , and now, finally, the universe hadn't snatched it away from him. _Finally_ , he had found a way to keep it to himself. 

After months of being abandoned, he was  _found_ _._

After years of distance, he was  _wanted_.

After a life of loneliness, he had something  _permanent_.

And it was beautifully amazing. It was incredibly satisfying. It was wonderfully exhilarating. Adrien never wanted it to end, never wanted to see the light fade. And he knew, as long as Marinette was by his side, they would be fine. As long as his Bugaboo was  _his_ , nothing could touch them.

As long as love prevailed between the two of them,  _their_ love would never die. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ!
> 
> First of all, if anyone makes fun of my precious smol baby, adribuns, for crying, i wILL HURT YOU.  
> Second, I wanna thank all you precious peoples for reading this trash. This is my first ever contribution to the fandom, and I'm so grateful for the response. I will be back, once the school eases up a bit, and my inspiration comes back.
> 
> Y'all are probably wondering what tf is the fic title. For that, I had written up a short thingy, but there wasn't any instance in the story where I could include it. So, if you guys are interested, here it is, below:
> 
> 'The thing about masks; they don't just hide identities. They conceal fears. They cover flaws. They cloud faults. Shroud imperfections. The veil acts as a powerful barrier, barring reality from fantasy; verities from dreams; actualities from illusions. After all, if it didn't, what's the need for one, anyway?'
> 
> Sooooo, yeah. That was that. I really, really hope you guys like this. I know it's a typical ending and stuff, but it acted like a practice, and so far, it has gone pretty well, if I say so myself, thanks to you guys. Please spread the word about this fic and keep the hits coming!
> 
> And please please please, don't stop the precious comments; they always make my day! I'm always up for a chat. Fic ideas, feedback or just general talking, anything at all is welcome. I'll miss you guys, but the makings of a second fic is in motion, so please don't give up hope on meh.
> 
> Give my pathetic little page on Tumblr a visit for sure, since y'all have already come so far. I'm astro-cookie, if you're wondering and I would love to hear anything you wanna say anywhere else as well. 
> 
> and with that,  
> cookie out :D


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